<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Joy of Rediscovering You by MilkyMickeyWay</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24383677">Joy of Rediscovering You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilkyMickeyWay/pseuds/MilkyMickeyWay'>MilkyMickeyWay</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shameless (US)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Carl Gallagher &amp; Mickey Milkovich Friendship, EMT Ian, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Getting Back Together, Humor, M/M, Mickey doesn’t go to jail, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Shameless Big Bang, Slow Burn, season 6, season 6 fix it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:01:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>78,360</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24383677</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilkyMickeyWay/pseuds/MilkyMickeyWay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For years Ian and Mickey's lives had been intertwined. They always managed to come back to each other no matter how off track things seemed to get, but after Ian's recent diagnosis he leaves a heartbroken Mickey on the Gallagher front lawn. Months later, the two avoid each other as much as possible in a city where fate keep them close by, but life has a funny way of bringing them together.</p><p>Or a season 6 fix it fic with Mickey added to the canon storyline.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>98</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>239</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. I Only Miss Her When I'm Breathing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Big thanks to my beta @emisfritish for literally everything and @captainjowl for making sure Google translate did not fail me (it, in fact, did). Thank you to everyone I've overly talked about this with since at least January if not before. And final thank you to @filorux for the awesome artwork that I still feel like crying over because I love it so much.<br/>Please check the works out off of here and give them the attention I think they deserve! Links to that below<br/><a href="http://filorux.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a><br/><a href="https://twitter.com/KittyconvoyFilo">Twitter</a></p><p>I felt the need to add to the long list of season 6 fix its all because I've wanted one with Mickey just being dropped into the story. This fic does have pining, them being bitter, blame being through around, etc. You know, the things one does after a breakup lol. It is not me blaming them, it's just me attempting to weave a story that involves their inner thoughts. Many characters, especially Mickey, say things I do not condemn and does not represent my own views. </p><p>~~ indicates a POV change. </p><p>Lastly, this fic borrows heavily from the show. Ian's scenes in particular (more so in the beginning) have dialogue heavily lifted from the show and I take no credit in originally writing them. Time also noticeably passes since time passes during the canon season so Yev gets a bit older throughout the fic. The FIRST chapter will be very close to canon on purpose, it does change and veer off to its own story but it’s suppose to be related to canon. It’s basically what I would have hoped for if season 6 had Mickey. </p><p>I hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p>Flicking his cigarette, Mickey walked down the sidewalk. It was gloomy out, but he couldn’t tell if it was just in his mind or if the Chicago weather was actually shitty. It was probably the fucking weather since it was Chicago, but that didn’t mean Mickey wasn’t making it all worse in his head.</p>
<p>Passing the church, Mickey thought back to months ago. Ian had broken up with him, and for what? Because he gave a shit? He reflected back on their relationship as he walked. He had tried to take care of Ian, made a valid effort to reach deep inside and find his fucking feelings. Basically turned himself into a goddamn chick for Ian. Yet the universe, or whatever the hell was out there, just couldn’t let a Milkovich be fucking satisfied with life. The pain from Ian walking out that door the first time while he just sat there on his bed was a reminder enough to fix his shit when news reached him that Ian was in town again.</p>
<p> That would have been too damn easy for him if shit had just ended there. Just because his cards were sorted, didn’t mean the headstrong, motivated army boy that was one Ian Gallagher wouldn’t suddenly develop a mental illness. He thought he could handle it himself, even refused to get Ian help at a point, but he couldn’t. That realization came too late though. Too much fucked up shit had happened, and suddenly Ian was being ripped away from him again and again. Each time Ian was gone from his was another jab at his heart, right up to the point he felt his heart crumble into pieces on the sidewalk in front of the Gallagher house. </p>
<p>Looking over at the church’s graveyard, he noticed Frank wallowing. Were the Gallaghers actually haunting him? It could be from how large the fucking family was, but he swore he was constantly running into them. Mickey hated it, they all gave him matching looks of pity anytime they saw him. They knew Ian dumped his ass for caring for him like a bitch would. He can’t believe he came out for that fucker. </p>
<p>He looked back at Frank, just as someone approached the drunk. He vaguely heard the man mention living for his daughter. Mickey scoffed, he wished that was Sammi in the grave. Bitch tried to shoot him and get him arrested, but seeing as her ass was toting the gun he was released. Anyway, last he had heard, Frank had a romance with some dying doctor. He remembered seeing her while shoving Sammi’s supposedly dead ass into a moving cart. Anyway, how the man managed to pull any woman was beyond him, especially a successful sounding one. Mickey stubbed out his cigarette on the church sign. He thought back to those church protesters that caused Ian to freak out during his bipolar episode that led to this. This breakup. Fuck them. </p>
<p>~~</p>
<p>“Ian, time for work. Don’t forget to take your meds,” </p>
<p>Fiona was shaking him awake. She walked away and began to stir up the rest of the family. His limbs felt stiff, he really didn’t want to leave the bed. From the bathroom he could hear Debbie start screeching, forcing him to come back to the real world. He stretched his limbs while Fiona and Debbie continued their constant bickering. He rolled out of bed and shuffled to his dresser while his family continued moving around him. </p>
<p>“Want a lift to work?” Sean asked when Ian walked through the kitchen. </p>
<p>“No,” that’s the normal level of energy he put into anything nowadays.</p>
<p>Sean flashed him a disappointed look, “Your shift starts in half an hour.”</p>
<p>“Meds?” Fiona asked, as she asked every single day. Just let me drink my coffee, he thought. </p>
<p>“Yes, mom.” His reply came out with more emotion than anything had in awhile. It was an annoying emotion, but emotion nonetheless. </p>
<p>“Not your mother, just concerned. You take ‘em?” </p>
<p>Thankfully, Frank pulled through in that moment, one of the rare times he was glad Frank decided to butt in, and distracted Fiona. Though Ian managed to shoot him a weird look once he confessed his love for his kids. </p>
<p>Ever since that doctor Frank has been romancing died, the Gallagher father had basically lost his mind. Ian actually preferred him not giving a shit about his kids over this new weepy love struck Frank. He wondered how long that would last.</p>
<p>~~</p>
<p>Mickey continued down the sidewalk. Svetlana currently had Yevgeny with her, freeing up his afternoon. Of course, that just meant she also expected him to uphold the Milkovich legacy and fuck people over for cash. She walked a very fine line on what she viewed was acceptable since Yevgeny was born, but she was more than okay with Mickey staying involved in some of the shadier sides of money making. </p>
<p>Mickey also thought it had a little to do with how she didn’t really care much if he was in prison or not. She’d still find a way to milk him for money from the inside. Despite his bitchy remarks about Svetlana, the pair had managed to continue their forced lifestyle together. She packed up and left while Ian was in the mental institute, but showed back up around the time V and Kev worked out their fucked up relationship. He hadn’t cared she was gone, but coming home to an empty house had about done him in after a day of dealing with Ian’s issues. So yeah, it wasn’t the best life could be for him, but it could be worse. </p>
<p>He vaguely remembered stumbling around drunk, calling out for Yevgeny before he realized Svetlana was gone. He’d tripped and found himself cluttering Ian’s military jacket, tears leaking down his face as he slowly grasped he was completely alone. Svetlana must have since a change in him with her crazy Russian third eye or the Force or something, since she was just back in the house one day without even fucking asking. Despite all that bullshit, he sometimes found her fun to be around now. Though he wouldn’t admit that to her. She could drink him under the table, an impressive skill, considering he was born a Milkovich. His parents had used alcohol on their gums to get all of them to shut up as babies, and he hadn’t really slowed down since then. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Svetlana also didn’t expect Mickey to be open to ‘wifely duties’, thank fuck. Even in the beginning, before he came out, she had given up after a few sad attempts at a handjob. He may have been able to fake it before Ian, but the redhead had ruined him for good. Even now, he didn’t think he’d ever find anyone that made him feel the same way. He turned the corner onto his street, feeling broken about how everything had gone down. </p>
<p>~~</p>
<p>Ian hated how his family treated him. Everyone acted like he couldn’t hear. Like the medicine or bipolar disorder somehow stopped him from being able to hear what they said if it wasn’t directly to him. He knew Debbie was pregnant. Carl was in juvie. Frank has lost his woman of the week, causing him to be a changed man. Lip was dating his teacher, and Fiona was separated from her own husband or whatever and was instead dating Sean now. </p>
<p>It didn’t matter though, he could barely feel anything, yet alone care about their problems. He loved his siblings, but the meds caused everything to be a little hazy. He still felt better than his lowest low without the meds, but just barely. He didn’t really feel anything these days, but at least he was out of bed. He did his daily routine and that was it. </p>
<p>Occasionally he’d hear them talk about him in hushed whispers. They worried about him. What about Mickey? What about Mickey, he thought.</p>
<p>At that moment, something he had tuned out sparked Debbie and Fiona to start their bickering again, cutting off his thoughts. The new normal between them. Carl was mentioned, which is when he decided to chime in, “We should go visit him this weekend”.</p>
<p>Oof, that drained him, why did typical life drain him? He missed the highs from the nightclub. Fiona must have realized he was contemplating skipping work, because she got right in his face and sternly said, “Go. Work. You can’t be late again.”</p>
<p>He groaned, could anyone just leave him alone? He opened the door to the chilly Chicago air. </p>
<p>~~</p>
<p>After a tense visit to the walk in, Fiona and Debbie stopped at the local donut shop. Monica used to bring Fiona there, before there were so many little ones. Before Monica started to actively disappear for months, and later years, at a time. </p>
<p>Fiona was worried. She was their caretaker and she had fucked up so much in the past. Both as their guardian and as a role model. Debbie seemed disappointed that she wasn’t pregnant for fuck’s sake. And Ian? Ian had basically settled down, before abruptly breaking up with Mickey. He wouldn’t even mention him, which was hard to believe considering the Milkovich boy had been woven into their lives for quite a while.</p>
<p>Fiona picked up a chocolate sprinkled donut, which was once Ian’s favorite. Debbie must have realized it too, suddenly asking, “Ian seems like he’s doing any better to you?”</p>
<p>Fiona knew it killed Debbie, what happened. She had liked Mickey. Hell, they all had somehow bonded with the once hardened thug. Even Lip, who in the past had suffered from being beat up by Mickey, had formed an unlikely mutual respect growing between them.</p>
<p>“I honestly don’t know what’s going on in that skull of his. Carl, being Carl, bragged to Ian about his added juvie respect for being close with the Milkoviches, and Ian instead just mentioned the Milkovich currently in juvie. As if he didn't use to sneak down to visit Mickey back in the day.” </p>
<p>Fiona didn’t know which was in there now, they were a harder bunch than the Gallaghers to keep up with. Debbie frowned and plucked at the vinyl seat of their booth. </p>
<p>~~~</p>
<p>Pushing the gate to the Milkovich house, Mickey stormed up the sidewalk and stairs. Looked like nobody was home. Mickey wondered how long he had to enjoy the peace and quiet. Terry was still in jail, thank fuck. Didn’t look like he was getting out anytime soon either.  Colin was on the run, Iggy was somewhere getting high, if he had to guess. He hadn’t heard from Mandy in a while, Kenyatta limited her phone use. Not that Mandy would admit it. Rage and hurt flared in him at the thought. He felt guilt settle in his stomach over Mandy, remembering how he didn’t try more to stop her before she left with her abusive scum of a boyfriend. Tearing the fridge open, Mickey pulled out a beer and immediately made his way to the couch. He was ready to drown out the memory, along with others.</p>
<p>With less of the house’s official residents around, it opened up the room for more of the extended Milkoviches to crash. Which they took full advantage of until Svetlana put her loud Russian foot down. He was sure it wouldn’t last, but he was also sure Svetlana would have packed up again by now too. Fucking leech. </p>
<p>Speak of the devil, Svetlana interrupted the beginning of a night’s plan to get drunk. She was carrying grocery bags in one hand, the baby meat in the other. “You plan on being lazy sack of shit forever?” </p>
<p>Why wouldn’t she just move out, he thought. He was surprised she hadn't again by now, having had dates in the past, with both men and women he was sure she had mooched off of.</p>
<p>“I need you to stab man in eye for money. I agree already, it is good money.”</p>
<p>Oh yeah, that’s why. Mickey was good at making her money when he played along. </p>
<p>“I already said fuck off.”</p>
<p>He had zero hope she’d listen, Svetlana wasn’t one to back off.</p>
<p>“What if carrot boy visits? You know, the one you tattoo on chest? Will you get off ass then?”</p>
<p>Mickey paused. Svetlana loved to rub in his shitty homemade tattoo. One particularly bad drunk night he had Colin do it. It was red and swollen now, and it hurt like a bitch. He thought about her last attempt to get him to see Ian, it was the one time he had since. He didn’t want to think of how humiliating it had been, yet he thought of how Ian looked often. He looked rough as hell, if Mickey was honest with himself. </p>
<p>Mickey didn’t reply, but Svetlana took that as an answer.</p>
<p>~~</p>
<p>Ian balanced the tub full of dishes as he walked to the back of Pasty’s. The plates full of syrup seeped to the bottom of the tub, pooling in a thick puddle.</p>
<p>His distracted thoughts were interrupted by Svetlana walking through the back, Yev strapped to her front, “Ian, you go see Mickey today.”</p>
<p>He made his face blank, as he always did when someone mentioned that name to him, “Hey, Yevgeny. No, thank you. I told you I’m not going to see him again”.</p>
<p>Svetlana had tried to trick Ian into seeing him, once. She invited both to the Alibi. Ian wasn’t supposed to drink, even if he did occasionally, so he didn’t visit the bar owned by Kev too often, but Svetlana used Yevgeny as a reason to get him to go by. </p>
<p>He had basically walked in, saw him sitting at the bar, and left. It wasn’t his proudest moment, but when was anything lately? </p>
<p>“But he won’t discuss job if you don’t come.” Svetlana didn’t beg. She sounded certain she would convince Ian. </p>
<p>“I’m done with that part of my life.” Ian meant with him. With anything that reminded him of the one he was trying really hard to forget. He remembered Monica’s words.</p>
<p>“I pay you.”</p>
<p>“How much?” He didn’t know why he was even humoring her. </p>
<p>“Twenty five.” Ian scoffs. </p>
<p>“Okay, fifty,” Svetlana countered. Ian shrugged. He really just wanted her to move on, to let him move on. He really wanted him to move on. He wasn’t tempted by the money though, he was tempted by a reasoning that he wouldn’t admit was because he missed him. He should have said no though, should have used Carl’s release from juvie that night as a reason to avoid the Alibi. It was a solid excuse, but Ian knew he’d be there. </p>
<p>~~</p>
<p>Twenty minutes into being at the Alibi, Mickey realized he had made a mistake. He had thrown back a shot just in time to see Ian walk in behind Svetlana. She had their kid with her, because this was the Southside and Kev wasn’t going to say shit to his only employee. </p>
<p>Svetlana hadn’t confirmed she had convinced Ian to come with her. He also didn’t think she was just going to show up at the Alibi with him. Fucking woman did what she wanted. She dramatically kissed him on the cheek. He didn’t know why she insisted on showing him affection, he grimaced. Yevgeny was suddenly plopped in his arms while Svetlana demanded, “Say hi to Yevgeny like you care.”</p>
<p>Mickey wasn’t sure he did. For one, it had only been a couple of fucking hours since he last saw him. He also just had a complicated relationship with his son. He realized he didn’t hate him when Ian had kidnapped him, and when Svetlana had moved out with him, but he still found it hard to show too much emotion to him. Fuck, he was getting so big though.</p>
<p>He waved his hand at him, “Sup, little man?” </p>
<p>~</p>
<p>Seeing him hold Yevgeny always affected Ian. It was a rare sight back in the day, and judging by Mickey’s reaction, it still was to an extent. He looked more comfortable than he had in the past, but there were still some obvious issues Mickey needed to work through. Ian longed for both him and his son. </p>
<p>He missed the time when he was involved in the baby Milkovich’s life, suddenly caught up in memories from when he helped raise Yev. He missed Yev in general. He always felt weird about going by to see him since he left his dad, but on the other hand, he felt awful that he let that be the reason he didn’t see him. Yev deserved better than Ian, deserved better than to have someone already abandoning him. </p>
<p>Not caring if either her husband or his ex lover were okay with the awkward situation, Svetlana skipped right to the point, “Carrot boy is here, you take job now.” </p>
<p>Ian didn’t listen to the details. He knew even if Mick-he did the job, he wouldn’t get caught. He always had faith in him, even after all this. </p>
<p>“You’re just going to sit there the whole time?” Ian blinked, suddenly aware he had been day dreaming and that he was being talked to. By Mickey, who was raising his arms in a “what gives” gesture. Ian didn’t say anything, what could he after all this time? </p>
<p>~</p>
<p>Svetlana tried to steer the conversation back to the job, but Mickey wasn’t having it, “Fine. Why don’t you take the milk-sucker and scram, I want to talk to Ian.”</p>
<p>She paused before demanding, “Hey, in the eye, yes?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“In the eye,” she repeated.</p>
<p>Exasperated and annoyed, Mickey barked out, “Yes, in the fucking eye, I got it.”</p>
<p>Svetlana collected Yevgeny, balanced him on her hip and gave Mickey another sloppy kiss on the cheek while leaning her tits on him. Fuck, she had admitted before she liked to show off in front of her hipster customers. He didn’t know why he had to be involved in that. </p>
<p>Unsure of what to say, Mickey blurted out, ”Thanks for coming.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Svetlana paid me.” </p>
<p>Ouch, Mickey didn’t know where they went wrong. Where Ian had stopped chasing him like a sad fuckin’ puppy and instead started digging the knife in his gut. He tried to conceal the hurt in his eyes, force himself to say something to make it less obvious. Instead he kept awkwardly shaking his head a little and opening his mouth to start a sentence, but no words would come out. Finally he almost sighed, “You look good.”</p>
<p>Ian clutched his hands into fists on his lap, and said nothing. Mickey was becoming desperate by that point, desperate for something from Ian. He just wanted to hear his voice so he blurted out, “I got a new tattoo.” </p>
<p>He wanted to say he was faking the happy face, but it was clearly his turn to look at Ian with big ol’ dumb love sick puppy eyes. Ian stared forward, still not offering anything. He continued, “Did it at home, had Colin do it. Hurt like a son of a bitch.”</p>
<p>Ian was still staring as Mickey pulled down the edge of his shirt, showing off the irritated red words. </p>
<p>Ian looked repelled, “Jesus, looks fucking infected.”</p>
<p>Mickey shrugged, “We, umm, we were drunk, kinda hard to remember to clean the needle first.” Also, aftercare wasn’t the first thing on Mickey’s mind. </p>
<p>“Gallagher’s spelled with two L’s”</p>
<p>“I fucking know it is, Colin did it and I was nearly blacked out. Cut me some fuckin’ slack,” Mickey said as he pulled his shirt back down to examine the misspelled tattoo. </p>
<p>Ian caught himself chuckling before he awkwardly tried to look like he was scratching his face instead. The action didn’t escape Mickey’s notice, who cracked a genuine smile. He decided that maybe they could have a real deal of a conversation. </p>
<p>“Been thinking about you, ever think of me?” a stare off began. Mickey swallowed visibly. He knew he fucked up by pushing when Ian had barely cracked a smile. Did he really think that all these fucking months of nothing would end just because Ian laughed at his horribly infected tattoo? </p>
<p>“You tried to kill my sister,” Ian replied, acting as if he actually cared about that, back then.</p>
<p>“Half sister, one. Two, like you ever give a shit? Bitch had it coming, calling fucking MPs on you. Besides I didn’t go down for it,” he argued back. Sure he had gotten thrown in a police car, while Ian fucking did nothing, but there was no evidence. He was surprised to have gotten released anyway, knowing no evidence wasn’t usually something that stopped them from arresting a Milkovich at this point. The whole family had a reputation, one they mostly held up well.</p>
<p>Ian’s phone abruptly rang, “I gotta go, man. That’s them calling about Carl’s welcome home party. I really can’t be late.”</p>
<p>Mickey was left sitting alone in the middle of a bar in the southside, looking like a bitch with hurt all over his face as Ian walked away.</p>
<p>~~</p>
<p>Ian sank into their old broken couch in the middle of Carl’s party surrounded by the rest of the Gallaghers. Carl had definitely changed since juvie, looking more like a thug than the sweet but strange kid he was when he went in. Frank was rambling on about whatever, being completely ignored by all the kids as he sat on the couch with them.</p>
<p>Ian’s mind drifted off to the mess that was his conversation with Mickey. He wasn’t sure what to think about it, knowing it had both broken Mickey’s heart even more while also giving him hope. He shouldn’t have done that to him, they both needed to move on. Ian just wanted a few moments with his ex- boyfriend to help ease the break. He realized what a mistake that was, promising himself to keep his distance from now on. </p>
<p>Finally, Ian snapped out of his thoughts momentarily when Frank started on his new loving dad kick. He stressed to Carl, “Ignore him.”</p>
<p>“Sure, Frank”, Carl looked bored, more interested in the tv than anything else at his own welcome home bash. </p>
<p>Frank continued, “Call me dad?”</p>
<p>Everyone on the couch sighed, Ian rubbed his eyes in defeat and Carl’s face gave away exactly what he thought of Frank. Fiona started singing suddenly, saving them from Frank and his new found ability to care for his children. Kev and V followed her out of the kitchen, carrying a cake for Carl. Ian joined in on the singing, happy for a distraction from his thoughts about this afternoon. Liam seemed upset when Carl blew out his candles and didn’t wish for anything. </p>
<p>After the singing ended, Kev asked, “So Carl, lot of the kids in there having to take it up the ass to survive?” </p>
<p>Ian couldn’t help but crack a smile at that. Leave it to Kev to ask a question like that. V reprimanded her not quite official husband.</p>
<p>A knock on the door interrupted the scene, causing an end to the party when Carl’s new, also fresh outta juvie and incredibly intimidating friend named Nick showed up. Carl awkwardly thanked everyone before leaving. Ian took that as an opportunity to escape the noise, darting up to his shared room. Normally his family made him feel better but he needed a break after the day he had.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oof, I know they're so sad here but the break up is still fresh! </p>
<p>The first chapters have shorter scene changes but they get a more lengthy as we go. They also divert from canon more once Mickey's presence shakes things up more later lol.</p>
<p>You can find me on <a href="http://milkymickeyway.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. #AbortionRules</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mickey groaned as he rolled over, awakened by the noise. Beer bottles littered the bed, scattering as he slid off the edge to reach for his sweats. Someone was at the door. Mickey couldn’t think of anyone that would visit his ass, or at least anyone that had enough manners to fuckin’ knock. He reached for the gun that was hazardously thrown on the bedside table.</p><p>Pushing open the door, Mickey saw Kev in his bathrobe. “Bro, I need your help. Yanis won’t shut the hell up. Lisa and other Lisa are gentrif-whatevering the neighborhood. My girls can’t nap.”</p><p>Mickey groaned, he’d been awake for all of a second and had no idea what the hell Kevin was going on about already, “Slow the fuck down, man. Who the hell is Lisa and other Lisa?”</p><p>Kev looked at Mickey like he should already know this. Why the fuck would Mickey keep up with everyone in the neighborhood? He answered, “The neighborhood lesbians that bought the house on my street once it was fixed up. Yanis is freaking out because his dogs were taken. Turns out the chicks turned them in over their barking."</p><p>“What the hell am I supposed to do about it?”</p><p>“I don’t know man. Bond with the ladies over your common interest or threaten them with a gun. Just help me out!”</p><p>Mickey sputtered, “Our fucking what? Because we’re all gay? I’m going to give you five seconds to get the hell out of my sight before I shove this gun down your throat and blow your brains out.”</p><p>Kev gave Mickey a pleading look, “Please Mick. I can’t get the girls to sleep and if they don’t sleep I can’t get any sexy time with V.”</p><p>“God, if you shut the fuck up I’ll think about it,” Mickey slammed the door, knowing Kev would take that as a yes. </p><p>~~</p><p>“Gotta do our rounds before school” </p><p>Ian groggily rose out of bed with a, “huh?”</p><p>Carl was up, getting ready for whatever the hell Carl was up to lately. His giant friend Nick clutched a hammer to his chest. Ian rolled back over before he had to listen to anymore. He should probably be more concerned about the juvenile delinquent his brother was hanging out with, but he couldn’t bring his brain to stop feeling so hazy for even a minute. </p><p>He started to doze off. It felt like only a second went by before he heard the familiar noise of a pill bottle being picked up, waking him up. </p><p>“Give me my shit. I’m taking them,” he said after snatching the bottle from Fiona. He curled back into his covers. </p><p>“I need your help convincing Debbie to get an abortion.”</p><p>Ian really didn’t want to get into that conversation, though in the back of his mind he was surprised Fiona mentioned it. It must be eating her away knowing Debbie got pregnant under her care for her to even bring it up to Ian, “Sleeping.” </p><p>“Can we talk about it later?” He hoped not. </p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>“See you at work.” Ian felt his work clothes land on him. </p><p>“Can’t wait.” </p><p>~~</p><p>Mickey showed up at the Alibi just in time to overhear Svetlana utter, “They pay twelve bucks for espresso, they can smoke my balls if they want.” </p><p>The room was full of smoke, coming from the hookahs the hipsters were using. These morons paid twelve bucks just for coffee? He was even more glad he had shot up that new coffee store before, fuckers deserved it. He was pretty sure he hated them all anyway, not quite understanding how someone would want to spend that much money on the same shit they could get at any McDonald’s for a buck. </p><p>He watched as V put down the same box he watched her and Kev struggle to carry in earlier, “Twelve bucks? Toke it up, folks!”</p><p>Kev shot Mickey a look of understanding. “You have balls? Is that why Mickey is still married to you?”</p><p>Tommy snorted at the obvious gay joke. Mickey had been on edge with him since his coming out. “Ha ha, Kev. Real funny”.</p><p>He turned his attention to his wife, as she set down a beer and a shot immediately in front of him. At least she was good for fucking something. </p><p>“You do job?” Svetlana immediately began to badger him. </p><p>He took out a stack of money, slamming it on the table. “Jesus, yes. Here’s your cut. Fifty-fifty.” </p><p>“Spasibo,” she replied in Russian. Mickey just glared at her, not bothering to voice what he knew she was thinking, his eyebrow quirking up out of reflex. </p><p>“You take Zhenya. He in baby prison over there,” she nodded her head towards a pop up play crib. Since Svetlana began working at the Alibi, she had started to force Mickey to watch the baby more. Nika had left her not long after Ian had ran out on him, ruining all of Mickey’s freedom. Svetlana ruined it more by moving back into the Milkovich house. </p><p>“She’s really made a woman out of you, huh Mick?” Kevin asked. Tommy and Kermit snorted. Mickey was pretty sure Kev was just being stupid and not trying to make another joke so he just flipped all three of them the bird instead of bothering to reply verbally. </p><p>Mickey strutted over to the playpen, scooped out the little man, and walked past a bunch of hipsters who were cooing at his son. One fat fuck even tried to take a photo with him, fuckin’ weirdos. Passing by Kev, he heard him ask, “Where did we get an espresso machine?” </p><p>“Carl and big scary colored man, they steal from fancy coffee place,” Svetlana replied, accent thick.</p><p>Mickey pushed the door open and walked out, not bothering to hear the end to that conversation. </p><p>~~</p><p>“You’re going to carry around a bag of flour all day?” Ian watched as Debbie tore apart the closet in the hall. Years of discarded items shoved inside when one of the kids outgrew them. Ian didn’t get what Debbie was up to, but then again when did he completely understand her. </p><p>“If that’s what it takes to prove to Fiona that I’m my own person? Yes.”</p><p>Ian thought back to his earlier conversation with Fiona. “Well, good luck with that. She’s a total control freak lately.”</p><p>“Tell me about it,” Debbie continued messing up the already disastrous storage space.</p><p>“Acting like she’s our mom.” </p><p>“It’s my body, I can do what I want,” Debbie agreed.</p><p>“Yeah,” Ian leaned back against the wall, feeling a bit satisfied Debbie understood that outlook, “I’m getting it from all sides. Here, she’s jamming meds down my throat, and at work she’s ripping me a new one over some bullshit.”</p><p>Debbie interrupted Ian’s train of thought suddenly, “Found them!”</p><p>Ian watched her pull out old clothes that had belonged to a Gallagher, satisfied by her find, “Baby clothes?” He asked, genuinely confused. </p><p>“Gotta dress Desiree, don’t I?” A beeping from Debbie’s phone caught her attention suddenly. He examined her “baby” Desiree as Debbie checked her phone. All of a sudden, her phone was in Ian’s face. He leaned forward to read Fiona’s pro abortion message.</p><p>“Delete that shit,” he thought back to all the deleted messages from Mickey. Clearly he had a method for handling things.</p><p>~~</p><p>Walking down the street towards the Lisas, Mickey had Yev propped up on his hip.He was almost too big to hold, but it also gave Mickey a bit of a workout so he powered through. Besides it was that or strap him to his chest, and he wasn’t about to fucking do that. He couldn’t even look at the kid without realizing how torn he was about him. He hated him at first, yet when Ian had ran off with him, he was worried. Fucking worried for Ian mainly, having had just threatened to take him to get help. </p><p>But he had also been worried about Yevgeny, not that he’d admit it to anyone. He realized at that moment that he really did love Ian, more than his son even, but it had sparked something in him towards the kid. He wasn’t sure if it was love, but it was some form of fucking concern. He remembered the police officer handing him a younger Yev back, he couldn’t help but hold him tight. Only then realizing how much he was also worried for the kid.</p><p>He thinks that’s why Svetlana moved back into the Milkovich house, un-fucking-invited, because she saw a change in Mickey. </p><p>“Stop, you fucking brat.” He said as Yevgeny grabbed at his hair. He wasn’t saying much, even though Mickey was pretty sure he was old enough to be talking more. Started saying “mama” a while back to Svet’s delight. Never said, “dada”, thank fuck. He honestly didn’t think he wanted him to, since he had always assumed that Ian was going to be the one Yev called ‘dada’. </p><p>Ian has tried, back when he lived with them all. He would sit with Yev for hours, cooing over him and calling himself dad. Mickey didn’t want to admit it affected him. He may not have ever seen himself being stuck with Yev, but he had grown to the idea of starting a family with Ian. </p><p>“Gimme!” he shrieked excitedly, grabbing at Mickey’s ear. Kids were fucking weird, he decided. </p><p>He passed by the Gallagher house just then. Nobody appeared to be home, a sight that Mickey was grateful for. He didn’t think he could stand to see any of them, especially not Ian. Not after the shit show he had dealt with last time. He went through the stages of grief after their breakup, something he wouldn’t admit to fucking anyone. </p><p>He accepted he was gay, but thinking of Ian like that afterwards made him feel like a chick and he hated it. He fucked some girls right at the end, but gave up pretty fast. He couldn’t make the gay go away, and he had already accepted that. The breakup just made him want to crawl back into the closet. He slept with some guys once he accepted Ian was done for good, but all of them were too different from Ian. They weren’t ginger enough, or tall enough, not alien looking in the least. Ian had ruined him, and he was pretty sure it was for good.</p><p>He wanted a cigarette fucking now, but Svetlana had about clawed his hands off last time he tried in front of the kid. He didn’t get why. Svetlana herself had smoked while she was pregnant with Yev. She wouldn’t admit that now, but he’s had witnessed it plenty of fucking times. Ian has even caught her back when Mickey had avoided him before the wedding. He himself dealt with more than just a little smoke at that age. And he was still alive and kicking.</p><p>Honestly, he didn’t think he would be for a minute there, after Ian listened to him confess his fucking love to him and still stomped on his heart. He nervously palmed the pack in his pocket at the thought. Maybe one cigarette wouldn’t hurt.</p><p>~~</p><p>Ian pushed the door to Patsy’s open in a hurry, trying to not be even more late to his shift than he already was.</p><p>He spotted Sean right in the space near the back, really solidifying how bad his luck was today. “You’re late, dude.”</p><p>Ian figured the best action was to just ignore him and start his job. A response would only slow him down more. He rounded the corner to clock in, seeing Fiona appear immediately from the other side.</p><p> “Hey,” he distractingly greeted her.</p><p>“He’s gonna fire your ass if you keep showing up late.” </p><p>Okay, Ian thought, we’re just going to completely skip casual talk. </p><p>“I was helping out Debbie,” he replied.</p><p>“Well good. Did you tell her that she can’t have a baby?” He felt both like pushing Fiona and avoiding conversation all together. </p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Why not?” she pushed. She always pushed.</p><p>“It’s none of my business.” He hoped Fiona would get a clue. </p><p>“Of course it is. We can’t afford another kid.”</p><p>Fiona’s coworker Melinda interrupted, handing Ian plates and actually being job-focused. Unlike Fiona, who was so focused on Debbie that she was blurring the lines between work and home. Ian hated it. </p><p>“She’s going to ruin her life,” Fiona kept following Ian around Patsy’s.</p><p>“You don’t know that.” Ian thought about how hypocritical it was for Fiona to say that, after her melt down only a handful of years before. </p><p>“We need to be a united family front, Ian.” Fiona was clearly aggravated with the fact that Ian supported Debbie’s choice, but Ian didn’t see why Fiona felt the need to make huge life choices for Debbie. </p><p>“You can’t tell somebody what to do with their body, Fiona.” Ian kept attempting to do his job around Fiona, but he made a point to spin around to look her in the eyes when he spoke. He backed out of the room to avoid hearing anything else. </p><p>~~</p><p>Mickey beat on the Lisas’ door, not sure what the hell he was doing here. For fucking Kevin of all people. He had hated him for a while there, going as far to tell the giant man that he better put a bullet in Mickey’s chest or else he was to fuck him up. He didn’t like that the man had grown enough balls to threaten him back then. Though the man’s acceptance once he came out had accidentally softed Mickey’s feelings towards him.</p><p>A short haired lesbian opened the door suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. She looked like a typical dyke to him. </p><p>“You Lisa, uh, or Other Lisa?” She rolled her eyes at that comment. What the fuck did she expect from people? One of them should really go by a goddamn nickname, he scowled. </p><p>“Look, Kev, uh sent me over here to talk to you all about the Yanis thing.” She gave him a blank face. Mickey quirked an eyebrow up.</p><p>“Yanis? Big bald man? Kinda looks like Curly from the Three Stooges?” he pushed, not knowing how she didn’t know Yanis. </p><p>“So Mr. Ball sent his 5’4 tatted pitbull to talk to us?”</p><p>“5’4- bitch I’m 5’7 and you think I’d show up to rough you up with a fucking baby on my hip?” he motioned to Yevgeny, who had fallen asleep and was currently drooling on his shoulder. He couldn’t tell if it was cute or gross.</p><p>Their exchange was interrupted by another longer haired woman showing up. Other Lisa, Mickey assumed. She immediately cooed at Yev. Mickey almost wished he naturally viewed children like others, but Milkoviches weren’t allowed to be children, so it was hard to treat kids as such. </p><p>“Who's this?” Other Lisa asked.</p><p>Lisa replied “Kevin sent-“, right as Mickey said, “Mickey Milkovich.”</p><p>“Well Michael,” Mickey grunted, why was it assumed after having a last name like fucking Milkovich that his first name was Michael?</p><p>“Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but it’s Mikhailo. Call me Mickey, or call me nothing.” He wasn’t one to tell people his real first name, but it satisfied him seeing both Lisas look guilty. </p><p>“Are you here to threaten us? All we wanted was a safer neighborhood for our future children.<br/>
You should understand,” Lisa said, tone full of accusations. </p><p>“You picked the wrong fucking area to move to then. Look, Kev sent me because of the fact that I like dick up my ass. Said it was common ground, looks more like you and him have more in common than we do, but eh.”</p><p>“Oh we didn-“ “oh we assumed-”, Both Lisas cut each other off. </p><p>Mickey continued, “Your problems became my problems the second Kev showed up and interrupted my sleep. My bitch had me up all night running errands. If you have a problem with Yanis, try and call Kev first and one of us will fucking fix it, capisce? This neighborhood doesn’t handle snitches well.”</p><p>“I’m sorry to disturb you Mr. Milkovich,” Mickey raised his eyebrows and scowled, what was up with rich people? “We will try to have Kevin handle it. Didn’t realize there was some kind of status quo set up in this neighborhood. We hope we didn’t disturb you and your husband’s rest.”</p><p>“I meant my ball and chain of a wife, but you get the point. Thanks for the chat.” </p><p>Both Lisas looked shocked as Mickey walked down the steps, not bothering to explain all his stupid background. Let them assume some more. He thought back to the time when Yev had another dad, a real caring dad, in the form of Ian. He remembered how loving the other boy was around the kid, treating him like a real son. </p><p>He thought back to times their sleep was interrupted by Svetlana dropping the kid on the bed, or another Milkovich storming in after a night out. The month Sandy had moved in before her current stint in juvie was the worst. There was no extra bed, and if Ian or Mickey hadn’t gotten to their room first, they often found Sandy asleep in their bed already. Lots of equally sleepless nights shoved in Ian’s bed at the Gallagher house. He’d give anything to go back to that time though. Now, his thoughts were the ones that kept him up at night. Alone, without Ian.</p><p>~~</p><p>Ian was caught up on dish and worn out from working. Or life in general, he thought. He convinced the other busboy to take a break with him, feeling less like he was slacking if there were a pair of them. He had grabbed himself a slice of pie, figuring it was fair, after seeing Fiona take a paid smoke break while talking with V. He should have known she’d come in, barking at him. She scared off his company, and started giving him attitude.</p><p>He found it amusing that she then asked, “What’s with the attitude?”</p><p>“Look, you’re on my ass 24/7. At home, ‘did you take your meds?’ At work, ‘You’re late. Pick up the pace’.” He made a point to mock her while saying so. </p><p>Fiona threw her hands up, “How about some gratitude for the job I got you?”</p><p>Ian angrily balled up his napkin before looking her dead in the eyes. “Gratitude for what? Sloshing through fry muck all day? Having people snap their fingers at me?” He stood up, threw the napkin down and turned around, “Listening to my bitchy sister boss me around?”</p><p>“If you don’t like it, leave.”</p><p>He paused. Why the hell was he here anyway? He slowly turned around. “Fine.”</p><p>“Fine.” Fiona held his eye contact.</p><p>“I will.”</p><p>“Fine. I don’t need this shit.” He took off his work apron, threw it, grabbed his coat and stormed out as Fiona continued to yell at him. </p><p>~~</p><p>After leaving the Lisas, and dealing with some more or less illegal business, Mickey walked down the road towards the Milkovich house. He heard shouting as Debbie tore out of the Gallagher house, screaming at Fiona. He watched Fiona follow Debbie down the sidewalk before she ripped her suitcase out of her hand. A cat fight broke out immediately after.</p><p>“Get off me!”</p><p>“You are going to that clinic! Stop it!”</p><p>The two wrestled on the ground as Mickey watched from a safe distance away. He felt like he really should stop the whole mess of a show, but he also really fucking didn’t want to get involved in the Gallaghers’ business.</p><p>He didn’t have to make a decision, before Lip pulled up and ripped Fiona off of the redhead. When did Lip even get a car, he wondered. All three Gallaghers ended up laying on the ground, breathing heavily from what Mickey could see. He was close enough that if he kept walking they may end up spotting him. He overheard Lip mutter. “Fucking Gallaghers.”</p><p>Fucking Gallaghers for sure. </p><p>He watched as the girls got up and went inside. Debbie angrily stormed up the stairs first. Fiona put her face in her hands, groaned, and followed after. Her steps were much more defeated. He was surprised Lip didn’t say anything else to her, knowing how he typically liked to get the last word in. Mickey decided that one Gallagher was better and he definitely wasn’t fucking going to go the long way. </p><p>Unfortunately, Yev decided now was the time to start fussing, causing Lip to notice the pair. Yev was great for scenes like that, he only started fucking wailing when Mickey wanted him to be the most quiet. </p><p>“Been out here long, Milkovich?” Lip pulled out a cigarette. Mickey longed for one but knew he already pushed his luck with the one. </p><p>“Nah, passing by. Saw the whole shit show though. Fucking Gallaghers, eh?” </p><p>Lip smoked his cigarette in silence, for a minute. Mickey didn’t know why he was still standing there. He felt drawn to being outside the Gallagher house. Ian really had ruined him. Lip stubbed out his smoke and reached for Yevgeny. “Here let me hold the little guy. Viewed him as my nephew for a minute there.” </p><p>Mickey flinched. Lip and him had formed an odd bond in the past, a long way from the time of Mickey beating him up over Mandy’s claims. He really should have defended her honor again when Lip was the one actively fucking her over, but Mickey has been dealing with his own shit and Mandy was a tough bitch. He didn’t realize how ingrained he was in the Gallaghers’ lives, until he was abruptly cut out. Lip continued, holding out his pack of smokes, “You look like you could use one, man.”</p><p>Mickey didn’t reply. He passed over Yev, took the cigarette and held it to his lips. He brought up his lighter and struck it, lighting up and inhaling. Lip bounced the toddler on his hip. Mickey could see him being a good dad one day. He wondered what sorry girl would get involved with a Gallagher though. </p><p>“How’s Ian?” He didn’t mean to speak it out loud, wishing he could stuff it down his throat again.</p><p>Lip paused. “He’s okay. Fiona is driving him, and Debbie, crazy though. We don’t really know where he stands on his medicine but he gets up and goes to work at least. Says he takes them though. Who knows, Debbie said she wasn’t pregnant and it turns out she is.”</p><p>Wow, Mickey didn’t know where to start. It hurt his heart that Ian was still struggling with his meds. He had been there for him, had gotten him to take them, but that led to their breakup. Ian didn’t want a sitter, he wanted his old piece of shit trash-talking southside boyfriend instead. He had punched him too, causing Mickey to hit him back. Looking back, Mickey thought Ian just needed a reason to paint him as the bad guy. </p><p>He wasn’t surprised about Debbie though. It was the southside after all. He remembered bonding with her after Sammi called the MPs, both of them planning her murder. During his brief visit and questioning, he still avoided selling Debbie out for her role in the plot. Thankfully the lack of evidence freed him in the end. </p><p>Mickey finally spoke. “Keep him on them, okay? It’s good for him in the long run. No matter how much he argues. His tall ginger ass is stubborn as fuck but he needs them.”</p><p>“Yeah, Mick. I will. He thinks his life is over because of it, but it’s not. I’ll take care of him.”</p><p>Mickey threw down his cigarette, crushed it with his foot, and reached for Yevgeny. “Thanks, Gallagher. I uh, I gotta go.”</p><p>He made a point to leave before Lip could say another word, not quite ready to talk about Ian, although he had been the one to bring up the subject.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Fun fact: Yanis is played by Will Sasso. Will Sasso did actually play Curly from the Three Stooges.</p><p>Also, the phrase 'on dish' is used in restaurants everywhere. I know it slightly appears as a typo but any job I've worked they just say on dish in the way it was used in the chapter. Could have left it out but I haven't worked in restaurants for as many years as I have to get slight jargon wrong lol.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The F Word</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fiona walked down the stairs to a fully prepared breakfast. Ian was next to the stove, digging through a drawer.</p><p>“Where did all this come from?” she questioned. Ian didn’t look up, still mad at Fiona over work. </p><p>“Carl bought Froot Loops!” Liam piped up. Kid had never experienced name brand cereal. Ian only had at the hotel with Ned, years before. He really didn’t get the point, it tasted the same. </p><p>Carl walked by to grab the juice, “And cage-free organic eggs and juice with the pulp in it,” he sat the juice down beside Liam. “Eat up, little homie.” </p><p>Fiona immediately went into noisy mom mode. “Where you getting all this money?”</p><p>Carl poured his juice. “Juvie job. Saved up.” </p><p>Ian knew that was bullshit. He watched Carl carry a bag out of the house yesterday on the way to school, clinking like heavy metal was inside of it. He didn’t know exactly what it was, but he knew Carl was running a scam. </p><p>Fiona shifted into nagging mom mode, warning Carl about juvie. She had a point, but Ian was already fed up with her, “You better watch out,” he said, “If she doesn’t like what you’re doing, she might try to fire you from the family.” </p><p>Debbie, equally as pissed off as Ian, jumped in, “Yeah, or try to force you to get an abortion.”</p><p>Sean interrupted then, stopping the siblings from continuing. That is, until Fiona made a point to say she wanted to talk to Debbie first.  “About what?”, Debbie asked defensively. </p><p>“I want to apologize, okay?”, Fiona held up her coffee with her hand on her hip, she almost looked defeated. Before Debbie could reply, Sean leaned down to kiss Fiona goodbye for work. </p><p>Ian knew that Fiona was going to be late if Sean was already leaving, causing him to be unable to hold back his thoughts. “Oh, so you get to be late ‘cause you’re fucking the boss, right?”</p><p>Fiona sighed. “Lip already got you a new job, so cut the shit.” She looked at him like she was both pissed off and almost begging him to stop. </p><p>Ian flipped her off with both middle fingers and followed Sean out the front door.</p><p>~~</p><p>Mickey sat at the table, full of stolen guns ready to be sold. He had one gun halfway taken apart when Iggy walked into the house, being followed by Kevin. Iggy was probably the one exception to Milkovich's being complete hardasses. His older brother was practically always happy, but Mickey was pretty sure that was from his brain being fried from drugs. </p><p>Iggy wore a dopey smile, as he jerked his thumb behind him at Kev. “Hey, I found your friend outside. He looks a little freaked out-“</p><p>“I paralyzed Yanis for life,” Kev cut off Iggy. He was breathing heavily and running his hands over his face.</p><p>Mickey stopped taking apart the gun, looked up, and confusedly asked, “Wait, what?” </p><p>Last he heard, Kevin had said he had taken care of the Yanis, Lisa, and Lisa situation. Mickey didn’t really care because he hadn’t wanted to be involved in the situation anyway, but Kev had volunteered the information while Mickey was downing shots at the Alibi. He thought the man had begun to mistake Mickey’s need for alcohol as friendship. He wondered if Kev showed up as fucking often at Tommy and Kermit’s houses. </p><p>“After you talked to the Lisas, Yanis decided to rev his motorcycle at 3 am. I ran outside to cut his throttle, but ended up cutting his brakes. He got into a wreck the next day and god, I just needed to confess,” he wiped the sweat off of his forehead. “V wouldn’t let me tell Yanis and it’s been, god, it’s been eating me up inside.”</p><p>“And what, I look like a fucking catholic priest or something?” Mickey went back to taking care of the guns, hoping if he ignored Kev enough the man would leave.</p><p>Iggy walked through the kitchen then grabbed a takeout box from the fridge and slumped down in the chair near Mickey. He managed to drip sauce on the gun Mickey was currently working on, annoying the younger Milkovich.</p><p>“Do you fucking mind?”</p><p>“Nah, continue,” Iggy genuinely answered. Mickey felt like yelling, he was constantly surrounded by idiots. He felt like he was reverting to his younger self, constantly angry and with less of a concern for people. He took a deep breath, not wanting to yell in case it woke Yevgeny up. He didn’t need another person to deal with. </p><p>“And what do you want from me, Ball?” </p><p>He figured the sooner he fixed whatever the problem was, the sooner the big tall idiot would leave. </p><p>“I just felt like I needed to get that off my chest, and boy, do I feel better. Maybe you’d be less grouchy if you opened up some.”</p><p>Mickey practically growled and waved the gun in his hand slightly, “Did you really come here to fucking insult me? Do you want me to make good on any of my promises to murder you? You know they almost got me for attempted murder on Sammi, I wouldn’t test me, bitch.” </p><p>His voice had raised with each sentence. </p><p>Kev scoffed. “Key words are almost and attempted. For real, man, you’ve been really pissy since Ian and you split.”</p><p>Iggy took that as his opportunity to leave, scrambling to grab his food and avoid the disaster that was coming. He had made the mistake in the past of bringing up Ian, and had suffered a broken nose because of it. </p><p>Mickey didn’t even know what to say, was Kev really so fucking dumb that he’d try to play therapist with Mickey? His lack of reply only encouraged Kev. “Look I’ve known Ian for years, since Frank showed up with a couple of kids and took over Ginger’s house.”</p><p>Mickey remembers Ian at that age. They almost never talked until Mickey tried killing a fifteen year old Ian for touching his sister. But once, an eight year old version of Ian with even more freckles and hand me down clothes had asked Mickey for a pencil. Back then, it was obvious how bad off the Gallaghers were. </p><p>Fiona was barely a teenager back then and hadn’t completely taken over for Monica yet, just mostly. She was still too young to provide financially for the younger siblings and hadn’t dropped out of school yet, according to Ian and his love for never ending storytelling. </p><p>The Milkovich reputation hadn’t been announced to Ian yet, who soon learned the hard way when Mickey threatened to stab him. Milkoviches didn’t do handouts. Ian had shot him a puppy dog look, and basically avoided Mickey until Mickey was pulled out of school for a year to be thrown in foster care when Terry started working for a cartel. Mickey’s mother Laura managed to keep Mandy out of foster care, but the Milkovich boys weren’t as lucky. When Mickey returned to school, he didn’t avoid Mickey like he did before, but the two still barely interacted. Mickey realized he was lost in memories of Ian and he knew he better stop before he thought of more painful ones. </p><p>Kev must have noticed the look on Mickey’s face, because his stupid goofy look softened. “Hey, like I said, I’ve known Ian for years and the Ian now isn’t the same kid as before. He’s going through a rough time. He was in a bad place before, but he’s on medicine now. He just needs time to adjust.”</p><p>Mickey’s hurt look changed to a pissed off one, “Look, shithead, I don’t know what Gallagher’s been saying, but you weren’t there when he dumped my ass on his porch for giving a shit. He didn’t even want to be with me all because I wanted him to be medicated, and now he’s practically prancing around on meds, all gung-ho without me. It’s been months, Kev.”</p><p>Mickey dropped the gun at that point. “I don’t want to talk about it Kev. If I decide to find Jesus, I’ll go to confession, but I’m not laying out my fucking inner thoughts for you.”</p><p>He thought about the last time he had done just that, when Ian broke his heart and didn’t even bother checking on him when Sammi pulled a gun out. Did he really care that little? He had made eye contact with Ian from inside the back of the police car, but Ian hastily looked down at the ground with his red tinted eyes. Mickey’s eyes felt watery, he hung his head a bit hoping to hide it. </p><p>Kev put his hands up, apologizing. “Hey, man. Free drink on the house next time you come in.”<br/>
He backed out of the house, knowing that he had pushed Mickey too hard too fast. Mickey went to the fridge, grabbed a beer, and collapsed onto the couch. Just in time for a high pitched cry to come from Svetlana’s room, signaling the fact that he’d managed to wake Yevgeny. </p><p>~~</p><p>Walking down the hall, Ian looked for room 406. Kids were everywhere, blocking doors and room numbers. He found it after a few false look-ins at other rooms, none containing Lip. Lip’s room was one of the only doors that were closed without a crowd standing in front. He beat on the door, leaning against it to say. “Chicago PD. We have a warrant,” in his best police officer voice. </p><p>Lip opened the door, immediately leaning in to hug his younger brother. They exchanged greetings, smiling as Ian had missed the sibling that he was the closest to. Lip pulled him in and closed the door behind him. Ian immediately noticed an almost done naked portrait of a woman painted directly on Lip’s walls. </p><p>“This is all yours, no roommate?” Ian was a bit jealous, it was hard sharing a room with Carl, Liam, and now his friend Nick. Before he could stop himself, he subconsciously thought about how he missed sharing a room with just Mickey. He quickly pushed the thought out of his head. </p><p>Lip looked around proudly, “Yeah, it’s pretty sweet, right?”</p><p>Ian could tell that as much as he missed being close to the Gallaghers, he was excited to have something of his own. </p><p>Ian decided he couldn’t not comment on the painting. “Yeah, tittie art,” he said, nodding his head while grinning up at it. “Trying to make sure everyone knows you’re straight?”</p><p>He wagged his eyebrows at Lip, who clapped him on the back before saying. “There’s plenty of dude-on-dude action around here. You’ll do fine.” </p><p>Ian dropped his bag to the floor, “Sweet.” </p><p>He didn’t really feel as excited about that comment as he should, but he decided maybe he’d check out the college scene. He really needed some kind of distraction. </p><p>“Want a Red Bull?”, Lip asked as he pulled one out of the mini fridge.</p><p>“Nah, let's go grab a coffee. You can show me around.”</p><p>Lip looked slightly divided at the comment. “Shit, you know, I can’t, you know, I got a lab due. I’ve been up all night, I got a few more pages to go, and then some classes, but then, I can hang.” </p><p>Disappointment showed on Ian's face slightly, but he understood. “Yeah, cool. I can, uh… I should go check in at the new job, anyway.”</p><p>Lip muttered, “yeah”, as Ian dropped onto his bed, replying “Thanks, by the way.”</p><p>“Yeah, you know what, I’ll introduce you to Professor Youens, you can thank him.”</p><p>“Cool,” Ian looked around. He felt a little out of place on campus, having not finished even high school himself.</p><p>He had managed to go online and get his GED after he broke up with Mickey. </p><p>He didn’t know what else to do and needed to preoccupy his brain. Debbie had helped him pass his classes, seeing as Ian barely had motivation at the time and Lip was away. He glanced down to the paperwork he was sitting on. “This is some seriously nerdy shit.”</p><p>Lip barely muttered a reply, distracted by his current writings to bother to listen to Ian. </p><p>Ian stood up, excusing himself with a comment about his job, and started to leave. He didn’t want to feel sidelined, and knew Lip was just busy with the mounds of schoolwork he had, but he still managed to feel like a nuisance. Lip finally turned around and gave him a proper reply and comment about meeting up later before Ian slipped out the door with a distracted “Yeah.”</p><p>~~</p><p>Fuck, thought Mickey. If it wasn’t Frank-Fucking-Gallagher, walking right towards him from his left. Mickey had just finished a run with Colin and Jamie. They offered him a ride home in their beater but Mickey chose to walk. </p><p>He kinda understood what Ian was always going on about when he was up at the ass crack of dawn to see the sun. Except Mickey preferred to watch the sun sink down out of the sky at the end of the day, finding it oddly calming, although he wasn’t planning on admitting that to anyone. Anyway, walking was a good excuse for this newly inspired pastime, which was definitely not something he picked up because of Ian. Hell no. </p><p>Frank walked right up to Mickey as he said, “If it isn’t my favorite son in law, the only one I know though. I think I heard Fiona’s married. Wasn’t even invited. Father of the bride and I wasn’t even there.”</p><p>Frank clasped him on the back, turning in the same direction Mickey was going. Great. </p><p>“I’m not your son-in-law, Frank.”</p><p>“Well not yet, but when gay marriage becomes legal in Illinois, I’m sure you and Ian will be the first hitched at the courthouse.”</p><p>“Gay marriage’s legal in all fifty fucking states.” Mickey finally shrugged Frank’s hand off of him. “And Ian and I broke up. Like half a year ago. Do you remember to ever pause your attempts at getting shit faced drunk to check up on your kids?”</p><p>Frank paused. “Well no, but do those ungrateful children ever check up on their own father? No, I tell you! I provided for them, slaved all over Chicago working jobs to keep food on the table, and how do they repay me? By not even inviting me to their wedding!”</p><p>Mickey rubbed the bridge of his nose, why the hell did he even reply to Frank? The drunk could make anything about how he was wronged and deserved more. </p><p>“She didn’t have a wedding. She ran off to the courthouse and married a guy she didn’t know.” Mickey walked faster, hoping the man would take a hint.</p><p>He didn’t. “Oh, Fiona, that girl. Just like her mother, I’ve always said,” he chuckled, ”Well hey, even though your genetics probably won’t do Ian’s any favors, you let me know when you all pop out some grandkids to add it to my two that my lovely daughters are having.”</p><p>Mickey swallowed, that sentence was a fucking lot. Now Fiona was pregnant too? Ian had once commented on the confusing Milkovich family connections, stating there were too many of them. He had falsely assumed Jamie and Joey were his brothers for years until Mickey had made a comment about their dad, his Uncle Ronnie. </p><p>The Gallaghers were just as bad though. Hell, there were more siblings in their family than Mickey fucking had, even counting Molly. </p><p>Also, was Frank’s brain really that burnt out after years of drug abuse that he forgot that Ian and Mickey couldn’t have kids like that? Mickey made a reminder to himself to cut back on the coke.</p><p>Before Mickey could reply, Frank started on about the love of his life, who had died and ruined love for him. Mickey made a split second decision to dart across the street just to get away from him. </p><p>~~</p><p>Ian walked across campus, trying to locate where his new job was. He had been feeling a bit more excited lately, glad to finally be out of Patsy’s. He hated butting heads with Fiona, if he was being honest, but he couldn’t help it when she was so overbearing lately. </p><p>He hopped on an elevator to take him downstairs to where he was told to show up to. He continued to think about how everyone was down his throat about his medicine, even when he had been taking them, even though he hadn’t felt any balancing effect until the last week. The balance brought along more thought out and reasonable emotions, which had him dwelling on his past relationship with Mickey. </p><p>A “ding” disturbed his thoughts temporarily, as the elevator doors opened. He jumped off only to walk further down stairs. He had listened to Monica’s words, thinking that clearly Mickey was trying to fix him, but was that even true? He opened the door to the janitor’s area, no longer having the spare time to continue his thoughts. </p><p>Two men sat on the couch at the other end of the room, one sipping out of his drink, while the other bigger man asked, “Can I help you?”</p><p>Ian walked towards the two. “Hi, uh, I’m Ian Gallagher.” He gave a polite but happy smile, “Today’s my first day.”</p><p>Both men stood up, the man previously sipping his drink, Tod according to his name badge, asked, “You, you spell Ian with three letter?”. He pointed at Ian, as if he wanted to make a point on who he was talking to. </p><p>Ian shot a look of confusion. “Uh, yeah. I-A-N.”</p><p>The man nodded. “That's lucky.”</p><p>The first man who initially spoke to Ian commented, “It costs extra to get more than three letters embroidered on your uniform. That’s why ‘Tod’ lost his second D.”</p><p>Tod started stuttering, “And Ron, he used to be called Ronnie. But you don’t have to change your name at all.”</p><p>Ian shook his head.</p><p>Tod continued, “That’s like fate.”</p><p>Ron interrupted, “Come on, I’ll show you around.” He leaned closer. “Ian, Tod had a car accident a few years ago. He’s got a plate in his head now. He’s a bit simpler than he used to be, but, uh, well, he’s a good guy.”</p><p>They arrived at his desk before Ron continued, “So, you ever done any work like this?”<br/>
Ian looked around. “ I, uh, washed dishes in a diner. Bussed tables.”</p><p>“Well, this is like that, only without the tips.” Ian realized Ron probably didn’t know how restaurants worked, seeing as how he earned minimum wage bussing Pasty’s.</p><p>Ron went on. “Yep. You punch in here.” </p><p>He demonstrated by using an old fashioned punch card, punching Ian’s time card.<br/>
Ron carried on describing how the job worked, with Ian as the newest hire. Ian followed as he explained the job. He tossed an old uniform at Ian when he was done, off handly remarking how he could be Dave today.</p><p> The uniform landed in Ian’s hands with the name Dav glaring up at him. Dave must have not chipped in for an extra letter, he thought, before leaving to change into the blue jumpsuit. </p><p>~~</p><p>Fiona briskly walked up to Kev and V, who were at the front of Patsy’s, immediately greeting them. “Hey, thanks for coming.”</p><p>V checked her over. “Well your text said ‘9-1-1 and-”</p><p>Kevin blurted out, “I accidentally cut our neighbor’s motorcycle brake cable, and now he’s paralyzed for life.”</p><p>Fiona and Veronica simultaneously exclaimed, “Kevin!” and “What?” </p><p>Both girls had twisted around to give him matching looks of shock and disgust. </p><p>“God, it just feels good to say it out loud.”</p><p>Veronica revealed sarcastically, “I thought you got that out of your system when you went and confessed to ‘Father Milkovich’ earlier today!”</p><p>Veronica and Fiona then turned to each other and V promised, “I’ll explain later. What’s going on with you? You look like hell.”</p><p>Fiona quickly turned around, telling Kevin to find a table and indicating that V follow her to the back of the restaurant. Once there Fiona promptly confessed, “I'm pregnant!”</p><p>V gasped. “What? Wait. Debbie is pregnant, you said.”</p><p>Fiona threw her hands up, in a mocking motion. “Turns out, we’ve got a two-for-one offer over at our place.”</p><p>Tears formed in Fiona’s eyes, as her voice began to break. “It’s like a fucking sick joke, V. We’re both knocked up, she wants to keep hers, Ian hates my guts. Carl is, like, turning into a fucking criminal. And I’m like… Shit, what is this?”</p><p>Fiona began to wave at her face, as she panicked and gasped for air. V threw her arms around the crying girl.</p><p>“It’s the hormones”, she explained, having been pregnant only a few years before, and remembering the random bursts of tears. “You just start leaking down your face until the babies are born. Then you start leaking out your titties. Whose is it?”</p><p>Fiona, still crying, answered, “Sean’s. Or maybe Gus’. Possibly Jimmy’s.” She thought about her past relationships. She ran off and married Gus, then cheated on him with Jimmy when he popped back up. Jimmy was her wild card, she couldn’t shake him. They were toxic together, but that didn’t stop the feelings she had for the man. Sean had surprised her. She had been drawn to him, flirting constantly, but she didn’t expect to enter a stable relationship with him. Especially not when she was still married.</p><p>V, despite the circumstances, started to laugh. Fiona, began laughing through tears. “It’s not funny!”</p><p>V, who hadn’t stopped laughing, apologized, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Maybe not ‘funny ha-ha’ but ‘funny slutty’. You going to tell any of them?”</p><p>Fiona sighed, looking out the window. “No, cause I’m not gonna have it.”</p><p>Fiona explained her reasoning for not telling the men, ashamed to be in the situation, but confessed she needed to see Gus after Debbie accused the oldest Gallagher of avoiding him earlier that day. </p><p>“Fucking Debbie, she accused me of ghosting him, and I get that she’s fifteen, and by definition that makes her a bitch, but it’s like she’s really fucking with me. She can’t have this baby though, V. But there’s no chance she’s going to listen to me until she cleans up this mess,” Fiona ranted. </p><p>“Ian too. I can’t get him to listen to anything. He has no motivation, and I get the meds are fucking with him, but it’s almost like he’s made a point to never be happy again.”</p><p>V remembered Kev’s visit to Mickey. Kev had said a similar thing about Mickey, about how the Milkovich thug had about went off on him for even mentioning Ian. “Kev stopped by the Milkovich house today, deciding Mickey was the best source to confess too. I don’t know why, the boy’s temper is literally explosive levels recently. I wouldn’t chance anything that might upset him. Anyway, he said he about bit his head off about Ian. Said he looked pissed at first but started to tear up before kicking Kev out.”</p><p>Fiona blinked, she had been surprised and a little disappointed that Ian had ended things with Mickey. Mickey hadn’t impressed her at first, but she had witnessed how far the Milkovich boy was willing to go for her brother. He had honestly looked rough the few times she had bumped into him in person. She wasn’t surprised by that though, after how dedicated he was during Ian’s initial diagnosis. </p><p>“I don’t know how I’m going to clean up all these messes, but I gotta get both Ian and Debbie on my good side again.” Fiona sat down as V leaned her head on her shoulder. “Gus’ band’s got a gig tonight. It’s all over Facebook.”</p><p>“Then go and see him, and then tell Ian and Debbie that you’re getting your house in order. They should do the same. Ian needs to find a reason to be happy again and Debbie needs to evacuate her underage womb.” V leaned against Fiona while she said this. The two sat in silence while Fiona thanked whatever higher beings were listening for the Ball-Fisher family. </p><p>~~</p><p>Ian knocked on a teacher’s door, ready to change the trash bins inside. When he opened the door, he spotted Lip standing over a teacher. He had his arms crossed while he studied what he was being shown. Upon Ian walking into the room, Lip looked up from their work. </p><p>“Hey,” Lip greeted.</p><p>“Uh, I was just going to empty the trash. Should I come back?”</p><p>Lip waved him in. “No, no, uh, come in. This is Professor Youens, he made the call to get you the job.”</p><p>Youens pulled his glasses off his face. Ian walked over to shake his hand. “Oh, ha. Thank you, I really appreciate it.”</p><p>“How do you pronounce that? ‘Daav’?”</p><p>“Dave,” Ian deadpanned.</p><p>Lip interrupted. “Ian. His name’s Ian.”</p><p>“You look young Ian, you still in high school?” Ian was surprised. He was nearly nineteen,  not quite high school age. He had also filled out a bit, even though his meds kept him skinnier than he'd like. </p><p>Lip answered before Ian could. “No, he, uh-”</p><p>Ian cut him off, seeing as the question was directed at him. “I dropped out and joined the Army.”<br/>
He also got his G.E.D, but he didn’t think the professor would be impressed by that either. He could already sense the judgement. </p><p>Youens continued grilling Ian. “Since when does the US Army accept high school drop-outs?”</p><p>“They don’t. I registered as Lip,” Ian thought about how he was also seventeen  at the time, another thing they don’t accept. He had answered confidently but he hated discussing the time when his manic self had made him make less than reasonable decisions. He looked to Lip for help.</p><p>Lip got the hint. “It’s a long story.” </p><p>“He as smart as you?” </p><p>Ian really didn’t want to be standing here anymore. Why was this man grilling him anyway? He answered truthfully, “No.”</p><p>At about the same time, Lip nodded before giving a different answer. “Yeah, he’s smart.”</p><p>Ian tried to point the conversation in a more positive direction, sensing that even his brother's answer was probably not going to be the end of it. He gestured at Lip. “Lip is the genius of the family.”</p><p>It didn’t work, Lip’s professor questioned harder. “So that gives you an excuse for not finishing?”<br/>
Ian smile started to fade, but Youens continued, “You seem plenty smart, and Dav’s uniform doesn’t really suit you.”</p><p>He put his glasses on and looked back down at his papers, like he hadn’t just shattered Ian’s entire mood. Lip looked uncomfortable as he tried to get out of the situation. “Hey, you wanna get some food or something?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Lip grabbed his belongings. “Cool.”</p><p>They headed out together, Lip looking uneasy and Ian feeling belittled. The shuffled side by side, an awkward silence hanging between them. Neither seemed to want to bring the topic back up. He knew Lip would insist that Ian did have worthwhiled qualities and Ian just didn't want to listen to what exactly those might be in fear of it somehow making it worse. After exiting the building, Lip immediately ran into a friend on the way to grab food. They started joking amongst themselves about something that was either quantum physics or quantum machines, and that Ian didn’t understand.</p><p>Listening to all their jargon after Youens had already made made him feel stupid didn't exactly do anything positive for his mood so Ian made an excuse about needing to clock out before darting off. He just needed a second to himself, figuring he could text Lip with an excuse to meet up with him later. </p><p>~~</p><p>Mickey arrived at the Milkovich house just in time for the annual “Welcome Home From Juvie” bash that was being set up. They had two separate but equally used banners, one specifically for juvie and one specifically for Terry. Hopefully they’d have another five years before Terry got out though. Mickey planned to be long gone by then. Anyway, he couldn’t imagine him getting good behavior with his track record. </p><p>Walking through the gate, he could spot Colin and Jamie taping the sign up on the Milkovich house. He knew Iggy was out getting alcohol and drugs for the party, something they expected from him if the party wasn’t in honor of him. Inside, Svetlana was leaning down to pull out a cake from inside the oven, carrying it to the counter to put it down. She looked up at Mickey and demanded, “You hand Zhenya bottle. He is fussy.”</p><p>Mickey flipped her off but grabbed a bottle for Yev, who was crawling along the floor and whimpering. This would be the first in many Milkovich styled parties that the baby meat would attend. At least if Svetlana stayed around, reaching her greedy fucking hands into Mickey’s pockets. </p><p>He handed the kid the bottle and walked into his bedroom, where he changed out of his gross sweaty shirt. He pulled the black shirt over his head, throwing it on the floor before walking over to his beaten up dresser. He dug through, before eyeing a black shirt with the sleeves cut off.  Bingo. Pulling it out, he noticed it was his old Security shirt from when he worked at Kash and Grab. Linda had about fired him just over him ruining the shirt, but she witnessed him threatening a thirteen year old over chips and decided to keep him. </p><p>His mind raced as he began to think of how he got that job, remembering the summer nights Ian and him had spent fucking in the baseball dugout. He was still lying to himself and to Ian about not being gay, but he couldn’t even keep his thoughts from constantly thinking of the redhead, with his pale freckly skin and lanky limbs that hadn’t quit filled out. When they had broken up, Ian was still somewhat lanky looking, but the two times Mickey had seen him since, he realized how buff he’d gotten. Life really wasn’t fucking fair. </p><p>His bedroom door was pushed open, revealing his Uncle Ronnie at the door. “Hey, uh, I’m headed to pick up Little Milk already, need anything at the gas station or?”</p><p>“Grab me a pack of smokes? I’ll finish setting up. Gotta get to Iggy’s stash of weed before he hides it.”</p><p>“Cool, see ya in an hour.”</p><p>Ronnie walked out, motioning for Jamie to follow him to the car. </p><p>~~</p><p>Ian pushed through another thicker crowd, spotting Lip at the end of a beer pong table that was in the middle of the dormroom hall.</p><p>“This happen every night?” Ian swung his arm over Lip’s shoulder. </p><p>“Nah, just most nights.” </p><p>The crowd was crazy, full of kids dancing and yelling. Ian watched two guys make out openly against the wall.</p><p>“I think I like college,” he announced.</p><p>Lip chuckled and nodded his head, encouraging Ian to join in on beer pong. Both Gallagher men played game after game, before moving to other aspects of the party. Ian danced just as dirty as he had during his stripper days, surprising the people around him as he rolled his body while dressed very “boy next door”-like. </p><p>Near the end of the party, Ian found a wall to lean on and slide down until he was sitting against it. A few minutes later, Lip joined him. He lifted a blunt to his lips and inhaled. “It’s medical-grade weed plus piss-grade beer.” His voice was thick with the smoke, as he held it in his mouth. </p><p>Ian blinked multiple times, eyes red and heavy. “I’m seeing triple, Lip. I think I need to crash.”</p><p>Lip inhaled again, leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes. “Me too.”</p><p>“You mind if I crash here?”</p><p>“Yeah, of course.”</p><p>Ian focused his attention on Lip. “Like for a while? I hate it at home, plus Fiona and Debbie are always fighting. She treats me like I’m five. I need time away from something before I make a choice I’ll regret. Change of scene would be nice. Plus I figured we shared a room, like, our whole life.”</p><p>Ian was vague on needing time away, not wanting to admit to Lip that he missed Mickey. He didn’t need another person telling him what to do about it. </p><p>Lip looked off into the distance. “Yeah.”</p><p>Ian smiled. “Yeah?”</p><p>Lip shook his head, closing his eyes. “No, I mean, umm. Yeah, no, it’s just, you know, Helene comes over sometimes.”</p><p>Lip bumped Ian’s shoulder with his own. Ian spoke with a more forced smile. “Oh, okay? you salty dog. I’ll clear out when she’s here.”</p><p>Lip continued, “Yeah, and I’m the RA now, and I don’t know. You know. I guess I feel like I kind of earned my space or whatever.”</p><p>Lip added on, trying to salvage the situation. “But you can totally crash tonight. Or any night, you know, just don’t move your shit in, is all I’m saying.”</p><p>Ian lost his smile, looking up at the opposite wall, he blinked back tears. How did he get in this position? Now, Lip was choosing his teacher fuck buddy over his own brother? Ian tried not to think about it, but he longed for somebody to be with, he missed that feeling. He also hated not feeling like he had a place to go. He had managed to make the Milkovich house his home, and currently he felt homesick for it. </p><p>~~</p><p>Though Ronnie hadn’t even showed back up yet, the Milkoviches were already in full party mode. It was a Friday night, so Mickey hadn’t expected anything else. Despite his promise to himself, Mickey had already done a line of coke. He felt pretty good, enjoying the high that came with it. </p><p>It was a much needed relief to be surrounded by the Milkoviches while they were in party mode. Iggy walked by with a blunt, handing it to Mickey who took a hit and sat down on a white plastic chair in the backyard. Svetlana, at first annoyed by the vast amount of Milkoviches, finally joined the partying.</p><p>Jamie sat down next to Mickey and the two shot shit for a while, Jamie letting Mickey know about his last run. Apparently he had met a girl while robbing her crazy mother. He seemed to think it was already true love, as he proposed to her after three days. Mickey tried to listen, but after a while he lost interest as Jamie droned on and on.Suddenly, Mickey had a lap full of one Sandy Milkovich, fresh out of juvie. She wrapped her arms around his throat, teasing him as she asked, “Miss me, punk?”</p><p>Sandy was a bit younger than Mickey at sixtee, but the two had been periodically close over the years. Mickey hadn’t seen her in a while, both being caught up in their own issues, before Sandy was carted away to juvie for assault. The girl was a bruiser through and through, being raised as aggressive as any of the men in the family. </p><p>Mickey shoved her off of his lap, onto the ground where she landed with a groan. “Get the fuck off me bitch, you gain thirty pounds in your ass while you were away or something?”</p><p>Sandy spoke cockily, “Heard you were gay now, Mick, see, you’ve already adapted to worrying about my figure.”</p><p>From anyone else, Mickey may have punched them for worrying about who he screwed, but he knew when Sandy was being cheeky. Besides, bitch knew about him already since the big coming out incident at The Alibi. She had missed Yevgeny’s baptism but showed up at the Milkovich house not long after. </p><p>He grinned in return as she sat down in the chair next to Mickey as Jamie got up when he spotted his new fiancé appear. Already whipped. Mickey teased Sandy. “Finally out, eh? How was your first stint in the juvie? Surprised it took you this long.”</p><p>He pushed her shoulder and she punched him back in the arm, both smiling at each other.</p><p>The Milkoviches hadn’t bothered to raise the fucking kids they had, causing all of Mickey’s siblings and cousins to basically fend for themselves. Most of them didn’t feel very close, even though they did go to extremes to defend each other, but it just wasn’t the same with Sandy. Mickey thought it probably had more to do with their natural want to fight, but he didn’t completely write off his younger family, having been surprised by them in the past. Hell, he had expected at least one of his siblings or cousins to bash him for being gay. Besides Joey, who initially took a swing but got over it once Mickey knocked him on his ass, none of them seemed to give a shit. </p><p>Despite the time that had separated the two, Mickey still thought Sandy was probably the one he liked the most. He wondered how differently things would have gone down if he had her in his corner back when he struggled so hard with hiding his sexuality. </p><p>Suddenly a big black kid, Mickey realizing he was still a teen despite his size, pushed through the back gate. A small thug with cornrows appeared behind him, smirking in a familiar way. Mickey stared, as he tried to figure out where he knew the teen from. </p><p>Sandy jumped up from her chair suddenly, recognizing them, judging by her smirk. </p><p>“Ay! White boy Carl,” she called out mockingly. “Nick! It’s nice to see you both again.”</p><p>She fist bumped both boys. Mickey suddenly realized where he had seen that smirk, thinking back to a younger, more innocent looking kid who almost seemed to idealize Mickey. </p><p>He remembered the day of Yevgeny’s baptism. Ian had gotten out of bed before Mickey, probably to go on a run at five fucking a.m., and was doing pull ups in the doorway when Mickey stumbled out towards the bathroom to piss. He remembered hearing Carl ask, “You love Mickey?”</p><p>Ian had stared his younger brother down curiously before replying, “I like how he smells.”</p><p>The memory of the reply only made Mickey more annoyed. Had Ian loved him? He was sure he had, but he had also been fucking sure Ian wouldn’t break up with him like he did. So what did he truly know. </p><p>Continuing his smirking, Carl exclaimed, “Ay Milk! Didn’t expect yo ass to be on this side of juvie anytime soon.”</p><p>“Good behavior.” She winked and gestured to Mickey. “I planned on introducing you, but I think you know the Gallaghers close and personal, or at least one of them.”</p><p>She smirked more. Sandy hadn’t been around in a while, but she knew Ian. She had met him officially after things had temporarily gotten better after Ian’s first down episode. He didn’t realize she’d become buddy buddy with Carl in juvie.</p><p>“You hanging with the fucking Gallaghers now?”, Mickey questioned Sandy, ignoring the Ian comment. </p><p>Carl smirked bigger. “Yo, Nick, this is Mickey. Toughest motherfucker on the southside. He tried poppin’ a shot in my bitch of a half sister and almost got thrown in the slammer.” </p><p>Carl said it with pride, obviously still admiring the Milkovich boy. Mickey couldn’t believe how much he had changed. He had heard the youngest Gallagher boy had gotten himself thrown in juvie, but he didn’t know he was out, nor that he was sporting a complete look change.</p><p>Nick stayed silent, nodding at Mickey. He didn’t like the situation he was in, not really wanting to make small talk with Carl. Not even if the kid looked at him like the sun shined out of his asshole.</p><p>Sandy, probably sensing how awkward the situation was, announced, “Well I’m going to grab us some drinks real quick. I’ll be right back.”</p><p>Sandy darted for the hidden cooler inside the house, knowing exactly where the Milkoviches hid the good stuff. Nick walked off immediately after he spotted someone cutting the cake, before Sandy could even see it, and Mickey suddenly felt even more awkward as Carl shifted to look at him.</p><p>“You love my brother?”, he said, basically sending Mickey right back to the memory he had just revisited. </p><p>Mickey barked, “What kind of stupid fucking question is that? We’re not even together.”</p><p>“Don’t mean you don’t love him,” Carl deadpanned.</p><p>Mickey thought he could see a glimpse of the old Carl in him during this moment. Kid always interrogated everyone. Should have a bright future as a cop, he thought.</p><p>“The real question is, what’s up with the wannabe white gangsta look? Trying to earn more street cred?”</p><p>Carl’s smirk returned. “Ain’t nobody got more ruthless street rep than a Milkovich.”</p><p>“You over here trying to pretend like we’re best buds for brownie points?” </p><p>“Somethin’ like that,” Carl replied. </p><p>“Well fuck off with that, and, uh, don’t try and mess around with Sandy for your little gang game. Bitch is crazier than Mandy. She stabbed a guy in the throat for grabbing her ass.”</p><p>“Not my type, Mick. Looking for the chocolate woman of my dreams.” </p><p>Mickey actually laughed at Carl, cracking a grin at how ridiculous this particular Gallagher was.<br/>
Sandy showed back up with four shot glasses, but upon realizing Nick had disappeared, she threw back his as well as hers. Mickey and Carl followed suit. </p><p>Sandy and Carl weren’t close by any means, but they seemed to have formed some kind of mutual respect for each other in juvie. He sat next to her in a co-ed class, announcing loudly his connection to Mickey. Sandy had liked him immediately, respecting the fact he didn’t think Mickey lost any badass points just because he was gay. </p><p>He had somehow gotten released first, Mickey knew it probably had a lot to do with the history behind their fucking last name, or the fact that the guy Sandy assaulted would be drinking out of a straw for years to come. Nick returned with a plate for Carl, who had excitedly thanked his ‘homie’. </p><p>Conversation between the three of them shifted to their experiences inside juvie. Mickey had spent a lot of time in kiddie jail, but his most vivid memory was a baby faced fifteen year old Ian visiting him. He tried to go all rom-com on him by gently laying his hand on the window, until Mickey had threatened to cut his tongue out. That had earned a smirk from Ian, giving Mickey a few seconds to admire him. He suddenly shook his head, no longer wanting to be subjected to the memory. He excused himself to piss and escaped into the house. </p><p>~~</p><p>Crouched on the floor, Ian scrubbed the same hall that he spent the night before ruining. He heard Lip before he saw him. “Hey, let me help with that.”</p><p>“I got it.”</p><p>He saw Lip grab his mop bucket. “I said I got it.”</p><p>Lip continued to pull the mop out of the mop water. “Thanks, but it’s probably my puke.”</p><p>Ian slapped his rag on the ground and stood up, he went to grab for the mop’s handle, but Lip pulled away. Looking him in the eyes, he reached for the mop again and said more forcefully,<br/>
“Hey, I got it.”</p><p>He returned the mop to the mop bucket, right as Lip asked, “You pissed about something?”</p><p>“No,” he answered shortly. He squeezed out the water.</p><p>Lip pushed with his words, “I just wanted to help.”</p><p>Ian slung the mop back onto the dirty floor. “Maybe I just don’t want your help.”</p><p>Lip stood there, confused. “Well, what’s up?”</p><p>“I’m busy. Some of us actually have to work for a living.”</p><p>Lip blinked. “Yeah, no, I work.”</p><p>Annoyed, Ian slung the edge of the mop at the floor Lip was standing on.</p><p>Lip jumped back. “All right, what’s your problem?”</p><p>Ian opened his mouth a few times, nothing coming out before lifting his head to look Lip in the eyes. “This is it for me, Lip. This job. This is where I land. So you wanna come to me and talk about how hard your fucking job is as a teacher’s assistant-“</p><p>Lip interrupted, shaking his head. “I never said that-“</p><p>Ian continued over him, “While I clean up your goddamn puke.”</p><p>The two brothers were silent as they stared each other down. Eventually Lip broke the muted silence in the hallway. “Look, if you want a better job, you can go back to school.”</p><p>Ian began working again as Lip went on, “All right? Nobody made you drop out.”</p><p>“Fuck you,” Ian mumbled under his breath. ‘“Got my G.E.D. anyway.”</p><p>“No, fuck you. All right? I got you this job, man. Now you don’t want it?”</p><p>Ian stopped working, turning around to argue with Lip. “You don’t share your room because you think you’ve earned your space, and then you sit around and laugh at me with your fucking shitty bitch college friends. And say words like ‘prof’ and ‘caff’,” Ian’s voice rose to a yell. “Like you’re too fucking busy to finish your goddamn words, but I’m the one with a problem?”</p><p>Ian rushed towards Lip, pushing him. Lip held his ground and immediately shoved Ian back a couple of feet. Ian collected himself and punched Lip. Both men wrestled each other against the wall, bouncing from side to side. Lip punched Ian in the gut, allowing Ian an opportunity to shove Lip on the ground and punch him right back.<br/>
Suddenly, Lip’s fucking shitty bitch college friend appeared, trying to pull Ian off of top of Lip.<br/>
“That’s enough, man. That’s enough, man.”</p><p>Lip crawled away, shouting, “Let him go, it’s okay, let him go!”</p><p>Lip’s friend shouted back, “You want me to let him hit you?”</p><p>Clearly he had never been raised in the southside. Lip and Ian fighting wouldn't have made anyone bat an eye there. Fiona might have tried to stop them, but that was it. </p><p>“Fuck, I’m fine!”</p><p>Ian stood up and walked away while shouting, “Fucking done!”</p><p>He made a point to shove everything in his way over on his way out of the building. </p><p>~~</p><p>After everyone had either left or passed out somewhere along the Milkovich property, Mickey helped Svetlana pick up a little. Meaning Svetlana bitched at him from where he was sitting on the couch, until he rolled off the edge and got up, grabbing the trash bag she thrusted at him.</p><p>“Here, pick up mess. Your family make them, you clean them.”</p><p>Her accent was thick with sleep, but she didn’t look as if she planned on stopping anytime soon. He grumbled about her often, both in his head and out loud to her, but he did appreciate the fact that their house wasn’t always covered in trash anymore. She stood her ground about cleaning once Yevgeny began crawling, hating that he had no path on the floor he could take. He pushed past Sandy, asleep on the floor, to grab the empty beer bottle out of her hand. Time in juvie had made her more of a lightweight again, fucking pussy.</p><p>Knocking beers from the table into the bag, Mickey wondered when Carl had left. He still couldn’t believe the change in the kid. He practically had a personal bodyguard too, in the form of the giant Nick. Sandy had later told him that Nick had been released from juvie on his eighteenth’s birthday, having aged out of the system. He was currently crashing at the Gallaghers’ house. Mickey remembered his time as a stray there. The family was a dysfunctional mess, but the house felt full of love. He didn’t know why Fiona agreed to let anyone that needed a place to go crash there, already struggling to care for the five kids and Frank that lived there, but she never made a point to make anyone feel uninvited. </p><p>That role had belonged to Lip at the time, who fucking barely lived there anyway. Too busy with college and his exciting college life. Mickey bent over to grab the last of the trash on the ground, tied the bag in a knot, and walked outside. Lifting the garbage lid, he wondered if the yard being empty of trash had surprised his neighbors. They probably assumed his wife made him a changed man. They weren’t completely wrong, but he didn’t think they quite got the whole picture, not that he cared what anyone thought. He walked back inside, heading to his room. He hoped all his relatives were too trashed to have tried to claim his bed. </p><p>Svetlana stopped him on his way. “Small Gallagher brother was here, no?”</p><p>“Yeah, Carl. The tiny psychopath.”</p><p>“You see them again? You get back with other rainbow boy?”</p><p>Mickey groaned. “Jesus Svetlana. No, your bullshit plan the other day didn’t help us magically connect and forget about everything. No, we did not get back together.”</p><p>She put her hand on his shoulder, forcing him to look down at it. “I say this one time, only once. You must first do what is best for baby. Boy kidnapped baby, I know now it was not his fault. Brain does not work well. No blame, but do not let orange boy hurt you again. If you are sad you can not help with baby.”</p><p>Mickey was shocked, he knew she had forced him around Ian before, but that was for her own profit in the end. He didn’t think she had actually considered his feelings at all into the equation, but clearly Svetlana could still somewhat surprise him. Obviously, it was mostly for Yev’s sake but the fact she even cared at all if Ian hurt him managed to jolt him a little.  He put a lot of blame on her for his life in general, but sometimes, he remembered the look on her face when he first met her. Terry has been holding the gun up to her too. </p><p>He may have liked prostitutes better than gays, but Mickey didn’t think he would have had any less qualms about shooting her if she had said no. She did her job and went home, not expecting the incident to cause her to get pregnant and stuck as a Milkovich. Sometimes he still wondered if Yev was his, but at this point, the alternative was allowing Terry to have claim to him, and that just wasn’t happening. </p><p>He shrugged her hand off, not wanting to make the situation anymore of a moment than it was.</p><p>“Thanks Svet, but I don’t think you have anything to fucking worry about.”</p><p>He scratched the top of his nose, a habit he had in awkward situations, and pushed the door open to his room. Surprisingly his theory was correct, only having to step over a stray cousin of his on the floor, before he hopped in bed, fully clothed. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, shot Mandy a text since she hadn’t shown up, and fell asleep. </p><p>~~</p><p>Ian walked briskly down the street, avoiding looking up until his own reflection caught his eye in a window. He stared at himself, hating the person he had become. He had run off from home, worrying his family for what must have felt like ages. Ruined his chances at his dream career when he pulled his military stunt. Found Monica, lost Monica. Then he showed up out of nowhere in Chicago in a gay bar, but didn’t bother to let his siblings know he was back. </p><p>He had only came home when Mickey had pushed him to check back in, carrying him home when he had passed out after his shift. He pushed him to come out, even though he knew Terry would try to kill him, then spent months so manic he didn’t even care that he cheated on him. </p><p>Finally, after all those shitty decisions, he kidnapped Mickey’s son, got arrested by MPs, ran off with his Monica again, and then called Mickey just to break up with him as soon as he ran to where Ian was. He really was turning into Monica, he thought. He recalled all the times she was manic and made plans with the family before either running off on all of them or refusing to get out of bed. The comparison caused a lump to form in his throat. He felt like he might actually be the worst</p><p>He glanced down at his work uniform, realizing how low he was, working as a janitor at his age. He had so many big dreams, and he had spent the last few years completely destroying them. He couldn’t stand seeing himself stare back, looking pitiful, so he started walking down the street again. He walked miles, only stuck with his own thoughts. Finally he arrived at the edge of a bridge. He stared off into the water allowing himself to realize his biggest mistake of all was letting Mickey go.</p><p>He didn’t have the right to allow himself to go backwards and try to get the reformed thug back. He’d made his bed, and Mickey didn’t deserve to be put through the same hurt again if Ian went manic in the future. Even with the meds, the doctor said he could need an adjustment if the pills stopped working the way they were supposed to. Tires swerving prevented him from continuing his pity party. He turned around in time to see a Jeep run into the back of a small red car. He flinched and watched as a man opened the door and ran out.</p><p>“Jesus,” Ian muttered to himself before witnessing the vehicles catch on fire.</p><p>He could tell someone was still in the car, running towards it while yelling, “Holy shit! Fuck! Hey, lady! You okay?”</p><p>He continued screaming once he got to the window, “Hey! Hey! Hey, lady wake up!” he pushed his arms through the broken window. “Wake up! Come on, wake up! Can you hear me? Fuck!”</p><p>The car was filling with smoke, causing Ian to gasp and cough. He leaned out towards clean air to breath in. Finally he managed to open the car door, struggling to undo her seatbelt while coughing and breathing into his shoulder.</p><p>He lifted her out and walked backwards while half dragging her, gasping for air the whole way. Once he got to a clean space, he fell backwards with her in his arms. At that point the entire car went up in flames. He couldn’t breath after inhaling so much smoke, laying on the ground panting. He blacked out, waking up to a voice above him asking, “Hey can you hear me? Sir? Can you tell me your name sir?”</p><p>Ian opened his eyes, staring straight at the fireman,unable to voice a word. </p><p>“Let’s get some oxygen over here!”</p><p>A flurry of activity happened suddenly. Ian’s eyes fluttered as he dozed in and out of consciousness. His eyes opened again. Another fireman stood over the current fireman’s shoulder and attached an oxygen mask to Ian’s face. He felt his eyes drift close as he once again blacked out.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So when Kev mentioned that he's know the Gallagher's for years, I definitely had use math and small details the show has mentioned to figure out this background. Kev was likely 23 when the Gallaghers moved in. I’m basing this off a lot of loose evidence but in the UK verison the Balls/Fisher family lived next door first and the Gallaghers moved in after them. Also, the show mentions Frank moving them in later because they were basically jumping around and living in cars for a bit/it was Aunt Ginger's house first. Judging by Kev’s house, it’s straight up a bachelor pad. I’ve decided that this means somehow a young Kev moved into it with a bunch of friends and overtime everyone moved out while Kev somehow rented/bought it until he met V.</p><p>When Jamie tells Mickey about meeting a girl, I kinda loosely based this off JamieXKaren's relationship from the UK Shameless since they're my favorite couple in it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Going Once, Going Twice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A noise was coming from somewhere in the room, disturbing Mickey’s sleep. He grimaced, still half asleep, trying to ignore whatever the fuck it was. He tossed a pillow over his head, muffling the buzz to a dull slightly less annoying ring. Finally, after a minute or so the high pitch sound completely stopped. He sighed out of relief before pulling the covers over him some more, snuggling down to get cozy. His mind was on the edge of sleep as he slowly lost consciousness, just in time for a full minute to go by and a piercing wail to interrupt his sleep-muddled brain. Mickey cracked open his eye lids, squinting at the sun peaking through his curtains only to realize the annoying as fuck noise was actually his phone going off. He reached his hand out, grabbed the phone and almost smacked it against his ear. “What the fuck do you want, Mandy? Can’t you ever text like a normal person?”</p><p>“Mickey?” </p><p>He blinked a few times. Okay so it wasn’t Mandy calling. He squinted, thinking to himself, trying to place the familiar voice. The same female voice asked, “Mickey, you there?”</p><p>Wait, was Debbie Gallagher on the phone? It was hard to tell. Last time he had heard her speak to him she sounded younger and way fucking peppier, while the voice on the phone had a hint of anger to it. She spoke as if the world had suddenly wronged her, a version of how she sounded the night the MPs came for Ian. Suddenly, he remembered she was likely to be a teen mom soon, and that clearly not all the Gallaghers agreed with her decision, judging by the fight between Fiona and her he had witnessed. He finally spoke, still slightly unsure if his guess was correct. “Debbie? What the hell do you want?”</p><p>“Look, I’m not supposed to be telling you this. Eh, well I assume I’m not supposed to be at least. Nobody directly said those words tho-”</p><p>Mickey huffed. “Can you get the fuck on with it?”</p><p>She paused for a second before continuing a little more aggressively, “Look, Ian was in the hospital. I know you still give a shit about him, and I just wanted you to know he’s fine now. Saved a woman from a car crash and inhaled too much smoke.“</p><p>What the fuck, Gallagher? Mickey wasn’t even sure what he was supposed to do with that information. Ian had made it crystal-fucking-clear on multiple occasions now that they were over. </p><p>“Debs?” he heard a distant voice in the background of the phone. “Want to help me bake cookies? They’re for the firemen.”</p><p>Mickey’s throat dropped down into his stomach, he felt like throwing up just from hearing Ian talk in the background after their last chat. He sounded normal and was clearly up and about. Bitch was even going to bake fucking cookies to thank the firemen for saving him, he guessed. It didn’t sound like the same fucking person Mickey had seen at the bar the other day. </p><p>“Who are you talking to?”</p><p>The voice was closer to Debbie. He heard what sounded like her fumbling with the phone before a click followed as she hung up the phone, clearly trying to conceal the fact that she had called Mickey.</p><p>Again, Mickey sat there completely stunned by the phone call. Half of him wanted to grab a coat and run to where the Gallaghers lived. He wanted to grab Ian and run his hands all over to check for anything that was hurt before pulling him close. Debbie had said he was fine though, and Mickey really didn’t have the damn option to go check up on him anyway. Half of him was pissed to have even been called over it, while the other half was thankful Debbie realized he still cared. Too fucking much clearly. He reached for the pack of smokes on his bedside, lit one up, and laid back against his headboard. </p><p>~~</p><p> </p><p>Ian jogged down the stairs, pulled open the fridge, and grabbed a carton of eggs before laying them on the counter. He had a recipe pulled up on his phone and was passionate about his new idea. After the events of a few days ago happened, he had been hospitalized and released. Strangely, he also felt more balanced than before, less low. He didn’t think he would get to feel this way again, remembering the unbalanced emotions from before and the void from the medicine after. He just, almost felt like himself. </p><p>Fiona was pacing around Ian, on the phone trying to get a hold of their ‘landlord’ Patrick. “Surprise! It’s me again, Cousin Fiona, hoping you can explain the eviction notice from the sheriff's department.“</p><p>She handed Lip the letter. Ian opened the carton, glanced at his phone, and darted around her to the fridge again to grab out more ingredients . </p><p>Once he came to after the incident, he found a male firefighter leaned over him. He’d stared up at him, not quite sure what was even going on. He fought to keep awake but suddenly all he saw was dark. He blacked out again before he could find out who the man was. It had felt like a scene from The Little Mermaid, and Ian was determined that this could be the movie romance of his dreams. At the very least, the movie romance that could distract him from the itch that was Mickey Milkovich under his skin. </p><p>Fiona continued on the phone, “Cause we do pay our rent.”</p><p>Ian thought he probably also needed a distraction from this, not wanting to deal with the issue of their house possibly being lost to them. It was a lot, and seemed like the thing that could ruin his mood if he concentrated on it too much. Besides, Fiona liked to micromanage everything already. This seemed like the perfect thing for her to handle.</p><p>“So if you can call us back when you have a minute, that would be swell. Thanks, Patrick.”</p><p>Lip, still holding the notice, read out loud, “Seventy-two hours to vacate the premises.”</p><p>Ian reading the directions on his own project, suddenly asked, “What happened to our flour?”</p><p>Fiona, taking a break from the frustration that was from blowing up Patrick’s phone to pour herself some coffee, answered, “Debbie used it as an imaginary baby.”</p><p>Ah, Desiree. He had forgotten about that already. He wondered what happened to it, seeing as Debbie didn’t come home with it. She really wasn’t proving her point to Fiona if she lost it.<br/>
Lip cut in, “Yo, Chef Boyardee, any chance you can help Fiona deal with Patrick?”</p><p>Ian checked the phone recipe again, still annoyed at Lip after their last fight. “No, working later. What about cinnamon?”</p><p>He knew he looked manic to them, maybe he was, but he just felt so inspired by this plan. He had used men in the past to divert his attention from Mickey related thoughts: both of his times in juvie, his inability to kiss him, Ian’s own bipolar issues.  The only difference was that now he didn’t have to feel guilty, Mickey wasn’t his. He kept reminding himself of this, and how it was better for the both of them. Ian was bipolar, he didn’t know who he was from one day to the next. He couldn’t guarantee shit, so he didn’t want Mickey to have to spend the rest of his life with him. He recognized that Mickey couldn’t possibly know that all the fucking versions of him were something he would want to spend the rest of his life with, and Ian knew himself enough that if he has pursued something with Mickey… It would have been long term. </p><p>Fiona cut short his thoughts, “Huh?”</p><p>She opened the fridge door, narrowly getting in Ian’s way, who replied, “I’m baking cookies.”</p><p>He hastily pulled open a cabinet, looking for something that would work. Fiona watched. “Why?”</p><p>“For the firehouse,” he paused, trying to think of a reason that wasn’t related to attempting to<br/>
move on. “I think they deserve our support.”</p><p>He finished that sentence, awkwardly and slowly. They probably didn’t buy it. Fiona clearly didn’t. “And today is the day to thank them?”</p><p>It’s that or ruin Mickey’s life again, he thought. He paused, looking up into the distance. “I bet the Hondurans have flour.”</p><p>He also bet that V and Kev did, but he was avoiding their place while his plan was in the works. Svetlana was sometimes over there and a tiny Mickey look-a-like was really not what he needed during this time. No matter how much he missed Yevgeny. He rushed past Lip to the backdoor. </p><p>~~</p><p>A sign hung above the Alibi, officially announcing it as the ‘Best Shittiest Bar on the Southside’. Kevin had hung it up proudly earlier in the week, literally texting Mickey a photo of it. He hated how the dumbass decided they were best friends, but he had to admit the man was starting to wear him down. Still, Mickey ignored all of his messages, but Kev didn’t get the fucking hint.</p><p>Mickey pushed open the door into the Alibi, escorting Sandy behind him. He really needed a drink after the Ian news. He hadn’t really hung out at the bar before his life had gotten wrapped up with the Gallaghers, but he was glad to have it now. Once Ian had disappeared, the first time when he joined the army, Mickey had started visiting the little shitty bar more than when he was just looking for one of its regulars to collect money from. Sandy, very clearly still sixteen, had never been but Mickey knew Kev wasn’t going to say a damn word. </p><p>Today the bar was empty, and he meant empty-empty with even Kermit and Tommy completely fucking missing. Mickey easily spotted Svetlana, V, and Kev in the deserted bar with the counter full of tiny plates filled with something that didn’t resemble fucking food. “The hell is everybody?”</p><p>Kev, swirled around on his stool. “The bar attracted too many top buns. Business boomed but the top buns ran off our regulars. Now we have too many tiny plates full of octopuses.”</p><p>Sandy, reaching around Mickey, grabbed a tiny piece of octopus and popped it in her mouth, before she winked at Kev. V’s face transformed into her famous ‘what the fuck’ expression, mouth hanging open in an O. She leaned possessively on Kev’s shoulder. </p><p>Mickey’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “What the hell is with the octopi?”</p><p>Svetlana leaned against the counter, pushing a plate towards Mickey. “Tapas. Tiny Spanish plate. Hipster maggots have shit taste.”</p><p>She motioned to Mickey to try it, his face managing to look even more disgusted than before. “No, thanks I fucking don’t.”</p><p>She laughed. “You like penis. Shit taste.”</p><p>Mickey flipped her off, choosing to ignore her.</p><p>Sandy suddenly leaned forward towards Svetlana. “Nice to see you again Svet.”<br/>
Mickey hadn’t remembered Sandy being so friendly with Svetlana before, mostly getting on Svet’s nerves with her Milkovich ways. </p><p>“Female Mickey, have not seen you since after wedding.”</p><p>“Yeah well, was busy, then I got thrown in the can for a while. Stabbed a man,” Sandy tossed her hair behind her shoulder, clearly bragging juvie. Mickey’s eyebrow raised up. </p><p>Svetlana cracked a sarcastic smile, “Shocking.”</p><p>“What can I say, I’m full of surprises.”</p><p>V cut them off, not wanting to listen. “Alright enough chit chat. We have brainstorming to do. The tapas aren’t working.”</p><p>Sandy replied, “Yeah no shit. This is the southside.”</p><p>V glared at her. “Well white girl, any ideas in the head that is beneath that greasy hair of yours?”</p><p>She smirked, though Mickey was pretty sure that sarcastic bitch face was her default. “You could do shit that would draw in actual residents of the southside. Like, a free beer to anyone who’s on food stamps or something that’s bonafied southside.”</p><p>Kev raised up in his seat. “V, that’s it! We have to go down to our roots.”</p><p>Clearly inspired, Kev darted to the back to work on whatever was going through that thick skull of his. V didn’t look pleased that such a decent plan came from Sandy.</p><p>Svetlana looked impressed though. “You don’t get your brains from Milkovich genes.”</p><p>Both cousins flipped her off. Sandy looked pleased by the compliment though, while Mickey’s face became a scowl.</p><p>~~</p><p> </p><p>Ian walked through the fire department, steps full of pep. He had a plate of cookies in his hands and a barely solid plan. He looked around, a little lost, until he came across a group of firefighters. “Hey, I’m looking for a firefighter, but I don’t know his name.”</p><p>“Regarding?”</p><p>“I was on the Central Ave Bridge on Tuesday and he saved my life,” he replied.<br/>
The man continued getting ready. “Tuesday? You want the Hose Pullers.”</p><p>Ian leaned slightly forward, indicating his confusion. “The what?”</p><p>“Flamers. The gay firemen. They’re all on one shift,” Ian nodded his head. Was that even legal? </p><p>“Really?”</p><p>The man barely looked over. “Chicago Fire Island.”</p><p>He rocked his shoulders from side to side as he asked, “So when’s the next gay shift?” </p><p>Honestly, this must be his lucky day. A whole maybe not so legal shift of gay firemen? What luck. He was still a bit bewildered by the idea though, but his plan became even more solid.</p><p>The man answered before looking down at the plate of cookies. “7 am tomorrow. Those snickerdoodles?”</p><p>Ian looked down at the plate, before handing them over wordlessly. He walked out of the fire department through the opening for trucks, even more confident in his plan. </p><p>~~</p><p> </p><p>Svetlana walked through the living room with a towel wrapped tightly around her. She had a full face of makeup already, but her hair was clearly still wet and rolled up in another smaller towel to dry. She was grabbing at clothes that needed to be put away, clearly trying to get ready. Mickey wondered if she had a date. She didn’t typically doll up too much for the Alibi, or seem nervous while doing it. </p><p>Iggy was staring Svetlana down and when Mickey glanced at Sandy, her eyes darted straight to him as if she was trying to hide something. Mickey tilted his bottle away from his face before burping, “Where you going? Found someone to bang?”</p><p>Svetlana put down the outfit she was studying. “New job, husband.”</p><p>She mocked him with that last word, clearly finding it humorous to be in the situation where her husband didn’t give a shit if she dated around. They had been in a more ridiculous situation in the past, when her husband had actively been living with her and his boyfriend. Raising a big ol’ gay family together. He practically wanted to punch something at the thought now.</p><p>“What happened to the Alibi?” he was clearly fucking confused, having just dealt with her there earlier today. </p><p>“Still work, need other job while Alibi is a deserted shithole. New job is Public Restroom.”</p><p>Confusion shown on all three faces, was she a janitor or something? Mickey figures she was just whoring herself out in a public restroom, he doubted it was the worst place she’d ever had sex. Wasn’t the worst he’d had, remembering the frostbite his ass should have gotten fucking in a freezer. He shuddered visibly.</p><p>She smiled. “It not real restroom. New place, 19th Street. Very popular.”</p><p>“So you’re two-timing the Balls with another fucking bar? Isn’t that against some kind of damn rule?”</p><p>“Not bar. Speakeasy.”</p><p>Iggy, inhaling a joint, asked, “What’s speakeasy?”</p><p>He passed it to Sandy, she inhaled before replying, “It’s hipster for bar, Ignatius.”</p><p>He visibly sulked, neither he nor Mickey enjoyed their given names. Mandy and Colin’s names were picked by Terry, making it the one normal decent fucking things he did for them. Laura, their long lost mother with a completely normal name, was in touch with her damn Ukrainian background. She had picked Mikhailo and Igor out. </p><p>Svetlana glanced at Sandy when she talked. “You know I’m thinking I could introduce you to the owner, Georgia. She may be willing to hire you under the table. You help me pick out outfit, yes? I dress you up and help you get job.”</p><p>Sandy smirked before jumping up to follow Svetlana to her room.</p><p>“I thought Svetlana had an outfit already?” Iggy pointed out the clothes she was carrying in her hands before she dropped the outfit at the edge of the couch. Mickey just shrugged. Mandy always had irrationally changed her outfits at least three to four times each morning before she had left for school, he figured it was just another girl thing he’d never understand. </p><p>~~</p><p>Ian, Fiona, Carl, and Sean were seated at the kitchen table, discussing a plan of action to keep the house. The realization that they may lose their childhood home was beginning to settle in. In front of each sibling sat a beer bottle as they each needed a little buzz to handle the problem at hand. Sean, not as worried and not as used to the family’s mindset, sipped on some black coffee instead. </p><p>“Okay, so we went to the bank and the house is being sold at auction, but there’s a chance that we could buy it,” Fiona paused for a second. “So, for the first time, ever, it would be our house.”</p><p>She waved her hands low, enunciating her point until she tapped the table as she spoke. She continued. “Not Aunt Ginger’s, not Patrick’s.”</p><p>Ian had been watching Fiona closely as she spoke. “How?”</p><p>“Sean’s got a guy at the bank who thinks I can get a bank loan of up to one hundred thousand.”</p><p>All eyes turned to Sean as Carl asked, in shock and disbelief, “Dollars?”</p><p>Fiona laughed, voice giving away her surprise. “I know.”</p><p>Ian, eyes wide in equal surprise, remarked, “Holy shit! Someone’s willing to give us a hundred  grand?”</p><p>Fiona looked down at the papers in her hand before she answered, “Yeah.”</p><p>“Why didn’t we do this years ago?”</p><p>Sean injected, “The bank doesn’t just give you money, they actually buy the house and let you live in it until you pay back the loan. With interest.”</p><p>Ian immediately followed with. “Or not.”</p><p>Sean chuckled softly at the middle Gallagher brother. Ian wasn’t one hundred percent sure on how he felt about Sean. He liked him enough, but thought Fiona deserved to be single for once. Like himself, he thought bitterly. </p><p>“We need a down payment of three thousand five hundred dollars, and we need it, like, now.”</p><p>At that very moment, he regretted not working at the club. He could have gotten that money in a week tops. He felt like his thoughts were reasonable lately, causing him to start to realize how bad exactly the club had been for him. He didn’t want to admit that the medicine may actually be helping, even a tad. Still he wanted to do anything to take a bit of the burden off their backs, so he offered the couple hundred he did have.</p><p>Fiona considered their options. “Okay, we could pawn the TV.”</p><p>Sean negatively added while shaking his head. “You’ll get fifty bucks.”</p><p>Fiona blinked before replying forcefully, “We’re brainstorming.”</p><p>Ian also really didn’t understand why such a headstrong girl dated guys that weren’t quite up to her level. Though, he thought, she was often too headstrong, especially as of late. He remembered everything they clashed about lately. Maybe she was just used to being in charge, and needed a guy that wasn’t going to try to knock her off her throne. Despite their current growing issues, he still respected and looked up to the older sister that raised him. She got shit done in desperate times. She just needed to slack off on them.</p><p>Carl, finally decided to add to the conversation. “Three and half Gs? Shit. I got you covered,” he pulled out a stack of money, thumbing through it. “What do you want? You want hundies or small bills?”</p><p>Ian leaned back in his chair. What do you even say to that? Fiona apparently had the answer. “You just got out of juvie and you have three thousand dollars?”</p><p>Carl nodded. “Right.”</p><p>Sean, amused by the exchange, tried to cover it up by taking a sip of his coffee. A stare down happened between Fiona and Carl while Carl kept flipping through his money. Ian looked back and forth between them.</p><p>Finally Fiona broke the silence with a firm hard, “No.”</p><p>“What, you don’t believe me?”</p><p>“No, I believe you. I just don’t want the state seizing our house ‘cause we bought it with drug money or whatever it is that you’re into lately.”</p><p>Ian wondered again if stripper money was better than drug money. Fiona hadn’t really said much upon learning he was stripping back then. He guessed that everyone was scared he’d disappear again if they said anything. Anyone but Mickey, he thought as he recalled all the disapproving comments from him. </p><p>Suddenly a new voice added to the equation. “Let’s not be hasty.”</p><p>Fiona turned around in her chair. “You are not part of this conversation, Frank.”</p><p>He walked into the room with his hands in a raised motion. “This was my house long before any of you had claim to it.”</p><p>He reached up and pulled an unlit cigarette out of his mouth before grabbing his hat off his head. He unfortunately added, “Not legally, but every other way. The point is we’re Gallaghers. If Carl wants to step up-“</p><p>Fiona deadpanned another ‘No’ before turning back towards the table.</p><p>Ian asked, face not hiding his feelings on the matter, “Why do you get the last word?”<br/>
He may respect her, but he was still tired of her shit lately. </p><p>She stuttered at first, clearly annoyed. “If you want to go get a mortgage with your name on it, then take Carl’s money. But otherwise, we’ll find another way.”</p><p>Carl turned towards Nick, who Ian had just realized was sitting in the room despite his huge size. “I’ll just spend it on my ride.”</p><p>He motioned towards Nick. “If you want us we’ll be upstairs. Come on, Nick.”</p><p>Frank, smelling an opportunity to get cash followed, “Carl, a word. If you would, son?”</p><p>Ian scoffed, playing with the beer bottle in his hands. He shook it from side to side before inputting, “I don’t know why you bother calling a family meeting. You make all the decisions anyway.”</p><p>Just saying that outloud had him heated. He grabbed his drink and stood up before walking out of the room. He didn’t even bother turning to see Fiona staring at him jaw-slacked, he knew she would be since he already knew her so well. </p><p>~~</p><p>Mickey jogged down the front steps of the Milkoviches, surprised to see Carl walking towards the house. He swore, if this was another bad news related to Ian he was going to show up at the Gallaghers’ house and kick his ass himself. </p><p>Mickey mocked him. “What the fuck you want, homie?” He put extra emphasis on the word homie, driving his point about how ridiculous Carl was sounding lately.</p><p>Carl’s friend followed behind, confirming Svetlana’s thoughts on him. He was huge, especially in comparison to both Carl and him. Both of them didn’t exactly have a career in basketball or anything like that. </p><p>“Wanna help me sell this blow? I’ll cut ya a deal, sixty-forty. Gotta unload a pound of it before G-Dogg gets mad.”</p><p>Mickey snorted, “You trying to recruit another drug dealer? Gotta find your own market, man. The Milkoviches may not be a gang but we already have our own corner of the market and plenty of fucking respect from the streets.”</p><p>Carl smirked, rolling his eyes in a playful way. “Yeah but you don’t got the hookup my homeboy got. Plus this scary motherfucker here,” he pointed at his friend. “is willing to bash some skulls to collect cold hard lettuce if ya feel, ya feel?”</p><p>Mickey reached in his pocket, pulled out a cigarette and lit it up. He was constantly finding excuses to light up lately. He went from a pack a day to almost two since Ian had left him. </p><p>Sparks flew as he struck the lighter as he replied, “Look you show up later with some, I’ll help you sell it. On the condition you get the hell out. You’re not fucking doomed enough to get into the drug running business.”</p><p>Carl laughed. “You know how many G’s I make a day? I gotta do something to pull my weight. Or else we’ll lose our crib.”</p><p>That made Mickey pause. Carl said lose the ‘crib’, as in the house Ian lived in. Was he bluffing? As much as he wished that, he didn’t hold it past the family to get into another situation that risked their home. How could so much happen to a family in such a short amount of time. What the hell did the Gallaghers do this time? </p><p>“Wait, who's taking your house? I thought you all worked out an arrangement with your dipshit of a cousin Patrick.”</p><p>Once, Mandy had tried to bribe Mickey to threaten Patrick. He showed up at the asshole’s house and held a gun on him until his crazy wife showed up out of nowhere packing her own heat. He knew better than to stick around while being outnumbered, so he took off. Should have brought back up, but didn’t expect much from a fucking mick. </p><p>“Nah, he let the house go under from us. The white man’s tryin’ to crack down and take it. Gonna leave the fam and me on the streets. Fi’s gonna try to get a loan from the bank though, thinks her G’s are better than mine all cause she’s doing it legal.”</p><p>“So you guys aren’t losing the house?”</p><p>Carl grinned. “Nah not on my watch. Nobody fucks with the Gallaghers.”</p><p>Mickey was honestly tempted to roll his eyes. He had been in juvie multiple times and didn’t come out talking like Carl. ‘Course, he didn’t have to find a gang to protect him with a name like Milkovich. He was set from the second he introduced himself. He doubted it would be that easy if he ended up back in the pin, since Terry wouldn’t let him keep his head down. </p><p>“Stop fuckin’ talking like that or I’ll cut your fucking tongue out.”</p><p>Nick stepped forward at the mention of a threat. Carl waved him down. “Down boy,” Mickey taunted. “Conversation is over anyway. I got shit to do.”</p><p>He walked away, not caring if Carl had more to add. He heard a shout from behind him, “Think about the offer. Lots of hundies involved!”</p><p>~~</p><p>A knock on the door peeled Ian up from the couch where he was sitting next to Carl who had slipped in about twenty minutes ago. He had started to drift off while watching some lame reality show on tv. He didn’t normally care about what celebrity was doing this or that, but Carl had been watching some trash show on tv before and Ian just let it keep playing till the next started. Besides, he liked watching people that were probably more fucked up than them sometimes. Nick also sat in the room, but he hung back at a distance, acting as Carl’s bodyguard. The whole arrangement was weird to Ian, but he guessed better Carl have a protector than end up in more trouble. </p><p>He walked up to open to the front door right as another knock sounded. Upon pulling the door open, he found a social worker and a kid. </p><p>His mouth dropped open. “Holy shit.”</p><p>“Is Fiona Gallagher here?”</p><p>Ian let them in before he darted up the stairs, straight to Fiona’s room. He knocked on Fiona’s door, interrupting a moment she was clearly having to herself as she shoved her drawer closed suddenly.</p><p>“Fiona, you’re not going to believe this.”</p><p>He didn’t even give her time to say anything, before turning around to head back to the scene. She followed him down the stairs, before mirroring his words. “Holy shit.”</p><p>Next to the social worker stood Chuckie, Ian’s bitch of a half sister’s kid. Behind them at a distance, stood Carl and Nick, who both held equally unreadable expressions. </p><p>Oblivious as always, Chuckie cut short the sibling’s attempt to process the scene. “Hi, Aunt Fiona.”</p><p>The worker asked again, “Fiona Gallagher?”</p><p>“Uh-huh.”</p><p>The social worker continued, “I’m Lysa with the Juvenile Detention Service. Charles is your nephew, correct?”</p><p>Chuckie turned towards Ian and Fiona, beaming at them. This allowed them a full view of his face, causing both siblings to be visibly startled.</p><p>“I forgot about that swastika,” Fiona said, eyes wide and staring at it. </p><p>Chuckie let his bag drop to the floor with a thud. Lysa, understandably disturbed at the scene, postponed the not so happy reunion. “This is listed as his address. His mom is incarcerated and we have no other family on record.”</p><p>Fiona looked back at Ian for a split second. He wondered if it was because of the Sammi comment. Though not surprising considering she did chase after Mickey with a gun across the neighborhood. He wondered what she had been arrested for. Was it that? Mickey was let go after being found not at fault, but maybe chasing and shooting after the man had led to her own arrest. A knot formed in his gut at the thought that while all of that had gone down he had just stood and watched. </p><p>It surprised him, but he felt so drained in that moment that he didn’t even bother to see if Mickey was okay. Another regret was now added to the pile considering that Sammi may have even been arrested for threatening Mickey, and he hadn’t even known either. He hoped Mickey was moving on from him since he felt he had only let him down. In spite of that, he did manage to be a little thrilled that she had possibly gotten a taste of her own medicine. </p><p>“Could I, uh,” she motioned for Lysa to come closer before lowering her voice to a whisper. Ian could easily assume she was asking if Chuckie could go someplace else.</p><p>Lysa spoke in a whisper, but loud enough for the room to still hear. “Eventually, we’ll find him a foster home, but that could take a while.”</p><p>Both women turned to look at Chuckie, who stared up at them with that mark on his forehead. Ian guessed not so many people would be okay with a kid with a swastika tattooed on them. They weren’t, but they weren’t okay with Chuckie in general, so it was really nothing new here. </p><p>Lysa continued, “And there are a lot of minorities in the state facility. Not sure how he’ll survive.”</p><p>She glanced at Ian. He exaggeratedly mouthed, “Fuck no.”</p><p>He didn’t want Sammi’s kid here, not after everything she ruined. Plus, Chuckie was pretty dumb and annoying all on his own anyway. He was pretty convinced Carl alone might risk bodily harm to the young but dumb kid.</p><p>Fiona turned back to the social worker. “He can stay here until we find another relative,” she looked at Ian. “Any relatives.”</p><p>There goes Fiona making decisions by herself, he thought internally rolling his eyes. Maybe Frank could move out and take Chuckie with him. He was technically the grandfather. Hell, Ian was the one the most distantly related to the kid. </p><p>“Need you to sign to confirm that you’re a legal adult, that this a drug-free household, that you will maintain-“</p><p>Fiona put her hands up as if she had an idea. “Hold on.”</p><p>She knocked Liam’s basket of coloring supplies over, grabbing a marker. She lifted it to Chuckie’s forehead to draw on the hate symbol to make a big square with four smaller squares in it. Leaning back, she admired her work. Then she gently smacked his cheeks in between her hands when she was done causing him to look like a pufferfish. </p><p>“Much better.”</p><p>Chuckie piped up in a semi-whiny voice that caused Ian to want to groan.  “I’m hungry.”</p><p>Ugh, Ian thought, he’s already being annoying. He wasn’t sure he was going to make it living with Chuckie this time. At least when Sammi and him both were shaking up at the Gallagher residence, Ian was out of his mind and out of the house most of the time. He met eyes with Carl, seeing the borderline murderous tendencies that once worried the family in his eyes again. Ian wondered if the pair had clashed in juvie, before looking at the simple but happy expression on Chuckie’s face. He wasn’t sure how, he concluded. Fiona turned towards Ian at that point.</p><p>“Ian, would you get your Nazi nephew some breakfast?”</p><p>Great, he reflected, Chuckie was already being pushed off on him. The small chubby kid walked  towards Ian, who put his hand on the kid’s back. He guided him towards the kitchen, scowling dramatically the whole time.</p><p>~~</p><p>“When I was nine years old, other kids had bikes. I told my pops I wanted one, he beat on me. But I got the money. Took me a year, I got it. A bike just like this one. Had it for one day before Pops traded it for a rock.”</p><p>“Shit,” Carl stood listening to Nick, watching him work on his bike. </p><p>Nick didn’t stop. “They lock me up for what I did to him. When I’m inside, they ask me, ‘you homesick?’ I say no, I just want my bike.”</p><p>Carl looked at Nick sadly. He knew Nick had a tough life, had to have to be kept in juvie for so long. He backed up, planning to let Nick have a moment to himself and his bike. Though it didn’t seem like much, he knew that bike meant a lot to his homie. He thought back to his own childhood. All his siblings were fucked up in some way from their parents, but they had each other’s backs. </p><p>He suddenly heard, pulling him out of his thoughts. “How you know Milkovich?”</p><p>Carl’s face transformed into surprise. Nick hadn’t given any sign that he knew Mickey, but then again he didn’t often give any clear signs on his face. He stopped walking away. </p><p>He replied, “My bro was ghetto married to him.”</p><p>Nick’s face barely changed, he still didn’t show much emotion, but Carl knew he was surprised. Carl was so used to Mickey hanging around, taking care of Ian, that it just seemed right for them to be together. Mickey was still the resident badass in the southside and Ian was always the sibling he looked up to the most, that he didn’t know why it surprised people. It was more surprising that they weren’t together anymore. He thought back to how their parents had dropped them. He thought that’s probably why Ian dropped Mickey.</p><p>“I know him from juvie. I didn’t talk with him at all, kept my head low.”</p><p>Carl was surprised by how invisible Nick could make himself, being such a big guy.</p><p>Nick looked up at him. “Milkovich is a tough guy. Small but tough. Wouldn’t want to fight him.”</p><p>Carl smiled a real smile. “My bro stabbed him in the heart, but I looked up to Mickey back then. Toughest mofo on this side of Chicago. Gay or straight.”</p><p>Carl didn’t mention how he had basically idolized Mickey, wanting to be as tough as the other man. He thought about Mickey’s warning, losing his smile. Maybe he was right. </p><p>~~</p><p>After managing to sneak out, avoiding what was clearly his new job as Chuckie’s babysitter, Ian showed up at the firehouse at eight a.m. He figured arriving as soon as the gay firemen’s shift started would seem desperate.</p><p>He headed into the station, pausing as he passed a workout room full of the very same gay firemen, all hot and sweaty. He leered for an extra minute, checking out the group. Just because he was on a mission didn’t mean he couldn’t actually stop to enjoy the view. He did, a lot. Men, all of whom were supposedly gay, were lifting weights and showing off their bulging muscles as sweat dripped down their faces. Each pump with the iron showed those muscles in action, flexing as the weights went up and down. Ian knew if anyone looked at him, he would probably be wearing a ridiculous starstruck grin. Best leave before he was too affected, he thought as he scanned the room one last time. He rounded another corner, coming immediately face to face with the fireman that saved him. He remembered that movie moment clearly. </p><p>“Hey, I just wanted to um”, the man paused and looked at him. “I’m Ian. You pretty much saved my life. Cookies?”</p><p>He thrusted the cookies in the man’s face, causing him to laugh. “Um, where was this?”</p><p>“Central Ave Bridge.”</p><p>He pointed at Ian. “The redhead. That’s right.”</p><p>Ian nodded, clearly a redhead. The fireman continued, “Yeah. You’d have pulled through, anyway, but I’m glad I could help. I’m Jason.”</p><p>Jason wasn’t as fun of a name to say, he thought. It didn’t roll off the tongue, like Mickey did. He mentally smacked himself for already thinking of Mickey. He attempted to fantasize about the men from before. Think of their glistening sweat covered bodies or something, just anything but his ex. Jason reached his hand out at the moment to shake Ian’s, which didn’t make Ian feel any which way with the contact. He needed a touch that caused his body to light on fire. “Good meeting you.”</p><p>He tried to rationalize with himself. I mean who felt any kind of butterflies in the gut over a handshake anyway? </p><p>“You want a smoothie?”</p><p>Score one for Ian, already being offered a drink. A high protein drink but a drink nonetheless. Ian shrugged. </p><p>Jason took that as an answer, turning to the rest of his crew to introduce Ian. “Hey guys, this is Ian,” he pointed around the room. “That’s JR, Stubbs, Adam, Caleb, Hollywood, and that’s Damian.”</p><p>He added on, pointing at the stereotypical firehouse Dalmatian, “Oh that's Bart.”</p><p>Ian melted, he was definitely a dog person. The Gallagher’s were never stable enough to also raise a pet, barely being able to raise each other. Mickey had wanted to get them a dog once, pausing the plan once Ian had slipped into a depressive episode. He had Ian excited about it but couldn’t get him up out of the bed the next day to go with him. Ian chuckled watching Bart.</p><p>He looked around the station before his eyes landed on a photo in Jason’s storage space. “That you?”</p><p>Jason’s face lit up. “Yeah, with my husband, Phil, and our two kids.”</p><p>Ian’s face momentarily fell. He wasn’t sad over Jason in particular, just the thought of a movie romance. He hadn’t felt any spark anyway, and according to Jason he had at least six more chances as he thought of the group before. None of them stood out in Ian’s mind either, but he hadn’t had a chance to speak to anyone yet he reasoned. He regrouped quickly. “Nice.”</p><p>Before Jason could say anything he was interrupted by a voice. “Hey what’s your name, again?”</p><p>He turned around, spotting the man Jason had pointed out as Caleb with the smoothie Jason had offered him. “Ian. Thanks.”</p><p>Jason put his hand on Caleb’s shoulder. “When Caleb’s not here, he’s in his sculpture studio.” he pointed out a sculpture behind Ian. “He made that one right there.”</p><p>They all turned to study it. Ian could sense Jason pumping up Caleb for a reason. “Awesome.”</p><p>Caleb nodded at Ian. “So what do you do?”</p><p>He had basically always hated that question after The Kash and Grab, which he worked at during his high school years and didn’t need to feel impressed with himself. He had worked as a stripper, basically been an amateur pornstar, sold himself, worked as a busboy at Pasty’s, and was finally holding a completely well respected by society position as a janitor. Not exactly an impressive career track.</p><p>He hesitated, “I guess I’m a janitor.”</p><p>Well there goes his chances once again of finding himself someone to move on with. To be fair, Caleb wasn’t exactly making his heart beat any faster. At least he had been attractive and Ian was sure he could eventually feel something. </p><p>Caleb jokingly winced. “Ooh, I had that gig. Sucked!”</p><p>Jason and Caleb laughed. Yep, clearly not impressive. Something about the exchanges caused Ian to want to prove himself though.</p><p>He asked. “You ever let anyone visit your studio?”</p><p>Caleb, who was walking away to get back to his workout, replied over his shoulder. “I would, if anyone cared. It’s right by the airport.”</p><p>Bells alarmed, shiftly the station into serious job mode as a woman voice over the intercom said, “Attention, Station Twelve. Section One response. Response command at airport.”</p><p>Ian did a full three-sixty, watching as the entire crew grabbed their hats, jackets, and geared up. All the men were running in a very serious and practiced manner, each jumping into their places on the firetruck. In a minute flat, the fire truck pulled out, sounding its alarm as Ian finally gave a delayed wave to the crew. </p><p>So he didn’t feel any draw, but Caleb may have been showing him interest. Which was something. He seemed to be the complete opposite of Mickey, but his shared interest in art is what made Ian slightly intrigued. Mickey may not have been the greatest artist ever, but he remembered his room being covered in doodles that he had done. </p><p>He used to draw Ian pretty vulgar photos of the two of them, something that many may have found odd but Ian always melted over. He’d even once drawn him a get well card during Ian’s short stay at the mental institute. Looking back, Mickey had been trying so hard to be positive and sweet to Ian then. Which Ian had basically spat at before punching Mickey, asking where his southside boyfriend was. </p><p>He had kept all of Mickey’s art after the breakup, stuffing them in a box under his bed. He didn’t let himself pull them out, scared to only further push him towards Mickey, but he thought of them often. He decided he’d have to revisit Caleb in the future, as he pushed the mental images away. </p><p>~~</p><p>Mickey honestly was enjoying the Alibi more considering nobody was there. Sure, so going meant he had to see Svetlana more than just at home, and he didn’t even like seeing her there, but he enjoyed the fact that nobody would be there to bother him. Except fucking Kev. </p><p>He had pawned Yev off on Sandy, so he wasn’t stuck with him the whole day and headed off to the shitty bar. He turned onto the road The Alibi was on and spotted Kermit way off into the distance, pushing the door into the bar. He internally groaned, if a regular was coming back then Kev and V must have managed to fix the issue. Oh well, he still needed a drink and didn’t walk to the Alibi for nothing. </p><p>Finally walking the length of the street, Mickey pushed the doors open into the Alibi and was greeted immediately to the sight of Svetlana’s boobs. </p><p>He groaned and threw his hand up, blocking the sight. “Can you put those away, Jesus fuck. What the hell is going on?”</p><p>Kermit was paused in front of him, causing him to also run into the back of the bald man. Kermit stumbled forward but continued to stay frozen while staring at Svetlana. Mickey shoved the man for extra measures.</p><p>She nodded her head at the bar, demanding. “Sit down and get a drink,” before pulling her shirt back up.</p><p>Finally, the trance was broken. Kermit squeaked out, “I’ll have a beer.”</p><p>“What the fuck is happening.”</p><p>Svetlana teased. “I flash man to sell beer. Sit down, I sell you one anyway.”</p><p>Mickey grunted. “Flashed me anyway when you were showing the goods off to this gawker,” he jerked his head towards Kermit. “Next time you’re paying for that! The show isn’t fucking free!”</p><p>Kermit realized Mickey was there, he looked down ashamed. “Sorry, Mickey. Didn’t think you’d mind at all.”</p><p>He didn’t care, but Svetlana did whore them out for money and Kermit wasn’t going to get a free look just because. Mickey was going to snap back at Kermit, but decided it wasn’t worth it. He had gotten over Svetlana`s comments. She had come to terms with his ‘choice’ but would probably always make sly references to it. </p><p>“What happened to Sandy’s idea?”</p><p>Svetlana, began pouring his beer. “Kev brainstorm it. I advertise Tapas still, at Public Restroom. Hipster bar is good place to steal business. Stupid Americans hear differently though, we only attract Kermit with boobs.”</p><p>She placed the beer in front of Mickey, walking to grab a rag to wipe the empty bar down. Kermit sat to the edge of the bar, staring at Svetlana.</p><p>V walked by him, purse around her arm with Kev following. “Bye Svetlana! We’re going to the auction!”</p><p>Mickey threw his beer back, realizing the Gallagher’s were having to save their house tonight. “Hey, you tell that Mother Teresa of a sister over there good luck. Don’t want them to have to join Frank in some fucking gutter somewhere.”</p><p>V paused, her look softening. She’d been around him long enough to understand he meant the best by that comment, using more aggression than most people would when sending well wishes. </p><p>“Yeah will do, you know them. They’ll figure it out. We’ll do what we can so they don’t lose the place.”</p><p>Mickey nodded, he had indeed once been confident that he knew at least one of them. He wasn’t so sure anymore, but he tried to remind himself that a lot of Ian’s actions lately were caused by his bipolar disorder. He knew he’d have to face what Ian had done one day, but figured the guy needed to be cut some fucking slack as he handled life with a new outlook. He was no damn psychologist, but he did a lot of research for Ian. Clearly that meant nothing though.  </p><p>~~</p><p>Later after the whole firehouse plan was set into place, Ian found himself at an auction. The auction for his family home. The auctioneer was speaking so fast, Ian wasn’t even sure how one was supposed to know how much it was currently going for. To his left, Lip had just arrived, squeezing down the row to find a seat.</p><p>“Hi, you made it. How was the trip?” he asked, since Lip had been with his teacher-girlfriend. Ian didn’t know what to think about it, but figured he had no right to talk.</p><p>“Still processing.”</p><p>Didn’t sound like romance was going great on his end either judging by that comment. Lip asked, “Where’s Kev?”</p><p>“He was supposed to be here, I don’t know what happened.”</p><p>Suddenly, the Gallagher house flashed across the screen, signifying that it was their turn.</p><p>The auctioneer, speaking slowly for once, listed it announcing, “Okay, next up, 2119 North Wallace Street.”</p><p>Fionna turned around, getting everyone’s attention.</p><p>“It’s four bedrooms, one and a half bath in an up and coming neighborhood, adjacent to a community garden.”</p><p>Ian scoffed, was this for real? He knew the auctioneer’s job was to make it sound better, and that realistically it was probably being looked at by people interested in flipping it, but the description didn’t even match the house that Ian knew. The Gallagher house was a shit hole, with memories from the six children scattered everywhere. The grey blue paint on the exterior of the house was chipping from neglect while the inside didn’t look any better. The bathroom tub had layers caked on from years of not being thoroughly cleaned, holes randomly littered the walls from either drunk fallings or pissed off punches, some nights rats scurried throughout the walls, and he was pretty sure the house wasn’t even up to any safety codes.</p><p>His throat clenched up as he remembered his siblings and him calling it home for most of their lives, if not all in the case of Liam. The stairs where Carl had broken his arm on three separate occasions, the porch where Monica had left the kids accidentally locked out to go on a drug run, the bathroom where Debbie had decided to give herself a haircut resulting in her rocking a tiny poofy red boy haircut until it grew out, the living room where Liam had learned to walk in, the bedroom where Fiona had learned that Monica had left her that morning with four kids to raise, the kitchen where Lip had gotten drunk in fourth grade and thrown up on the floor, and the boy’s bedroom where Ian had gotten caught hiding his men’s magazines. He was horrified back then, but looked back at the memory fondly now. Lip seemed to not know how to handle it, before turning around and becoming his biggest supporter. His throat clenched up at the memories in the house, not wanting to lose it and all those memorie with it.</p><p>Lip chimed in, “Oh. Sounds almost livable.”</p><p>Ian figured he might as well inform the people what they were bidding on. “Heard this place has a rat problem.”</p><p>His brother once again joined in. “Yeah and Honduran squatters live in the basement.”</p><p>The auctioneer borderline ignored them. “How about fifty thousand, fifty thousand for the four bedroom. All right, who would give fifty?”</p><p>A hand shot up. Fiona craned her neck to see who had bid.</p><p>The auctioneer asked if anyone was interested in bidding at sixty thousand.</p><p>Sean nudged Fiona. “Dive in.”</p><p>She threw the card up. The bid immediately went up to seventy. Ian watched Carl nod at Nick, encouraging his friend to silently threaten people to not bid. The bid was already up to eighty thousand though.</p><p>It quickly jumped to one hundred thousand, the most the Gallaghers could bid to. At the last second someone bid up to one hundred and ten, dashing the family’s hopes.</p><p>The siblings started to panic, Lip aggressively raising his voice to encourage Fiona to “hurry up!”</p><p>Ian shouted at her, “We’re going to lose it! Raise the card!”</p><p>Even Liam looked around confused from Lip’s lap.</p><p>Fiona turned around to argue. “I can’t, I can’t! We can’t go over one hundred thousand.”</p><p>“We gotta raise the card!”</p><p>Fionna said what everyone was thinking, but didn’t want to say. “We’re out.”</p><p>Each one of the Gallaghers looked broken, not knowing what was going to happen now. Would they all have to split up? Ian didn’t even know where he would go, not having Mickey to return to.</p><p>~~</p><p>Mickey’s phone kept going off. He ignored it once he realized it was Kev. He had spent the last couple of hours with him at the Alibi, why wasn’t that enough for the big brainless dumbass? When Mickey was leaving Kev had even said he was going to the auction to help get the Gallagher’s house back. He had some lame ass plan to distract the auctioneer.</p><p>Damn it, he thought as he grabbed his phone once it lit up for the seventh time in a row. This better be a fucking emergency.</p><p>“What the absolute fuck are you calling so much for?”</p><p>“Mickey, Mick- I am so glad to hear from you.”</p><p>Mickey sighed. “You called me, Kev.”</p><p>“Right, right. I need your help desperately” he sounded panicky. “It’s-“</p><p>“Is it Ian?” he asked. He couldn’t help himself. Cinderella was always getting himself into trouble, “Or Svetlana?” </p><p>“No, God Mickey, Yanis is dead. He accidentally set himself on fire! I don’t know what to do, man. I’m freaking out.”</p><p>Kev’s confession was met with silence. Mickey didn’t even know why he momentarily was worried for Svetlana. Bitch protected her own seven foot ass just fine, he realized her constant company was affecting him too much. He might even care for her slightly, fuck. He forced himself to think of all the times she fucked him over before getting heated at her threatening Ian with a hammer before he realized Ian wasn’t even someone he should get mad over. His head hurt from the conflicted feelings about literally everyone in his life. </p><p>The real issue was Yanis though, what the hell did Kev want him to do? Kev echoed, “Mickey?”</p><p>“Need help burying the body?”</p><p>“What no, I didn’t do anything I swear! He did it himself trying to kill the Lisas.”</p><p>He had almost forgotten about them, they hadn’t ever reached out to him or Kev as far as he was aware. He was beginning to think they didn’t actually want Mickey’s fucking help. Fine, then.</p><p>“Then why the fuck you call?”</p><p>Kev’s voice raised in panic. “What should I do about him?”</p><p>“Either find a ditch and bury his corpse in or keep up the innocent card and call the cops. I wouldn’t but your last name isn’t Milkovich. Either way good fucking luck.”</p><p>He started to click the button, when Kev shouted, “Don’t hang up!”</p><p>Mickey made a noise of annoyance, “Kev you don’t want me to bury the body, and I’m not showing up for the cops to come and try to throw my ass in prison. Again. You know how hard it was to avoid that with Sammi, even though she was chasing me with a damn gun?”</p><p>“V’s still out with the Gallaghers.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>Kev paused shortly, before mumbling, “Can I come talk?”</p><p>Mickey rubbed his eyes. “Call the cops and go the fuck to sleep. I’ll text Carl to tell V.”</p><p>He hung up for real, grabbed his phone and shot a text to Carl that said, ‘Hey tell V the crazy Greek is dead.’</p><p>He turned his phone on silent, not wanting to deal with any other asshole lesbians, dead Greeks, or idiot bartenders.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm sure most people caught it but I definitely managed to sneak Ian's speech from 10x09 to Mickey into this chapter :)<br/>I also didn't mean to slowly turn to into a Kev and Mickey BroTP fic but here we are lol.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Refugees</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Carl insisted, “It’s our crib!”</p><p>The Gallaghers were gathered in the kitchen. The day had just begun so Ian poured himself coffee, needing it to deal with all that was upcoming. Fiona shot back. “Not anymore.”</p><p>Carl clearly didn’t understand the point of the auction. “Who says?”</p><p>Ian deadpanned, “State of Illinois.”</p><p>“They can’t just take it from us.”</p><p>Ian tried to maintain a straight face, but his eyes almost wanted to roll by themselves at that comment. It’s almost as if Carl wasn’t at the auction. The auction where they lost their house and the State of Illinois did in fact legally take it from them.</p><p>Fiona briskly walked past Carl. “I don’t have time to explain foreclosure law to you.”</p><p>She sat a stack of waffles on the table, in front of Liam. Ian missed the days of banana pancakes.</p><p>“Those are the stairs where I broke my arm for the first time.”</p><p>Ian remembered having the same sad thought just earlier during the week. Losing a home apparently made the whole family take a trip down memory lane. “Yeah and the second,” he paused for effect as he laid his hand on Carl’s shoulder while he craddled his coffee mug in the other. “and the fifth.” He was still a smartass though.</p><p>Carl pointed at the kitchen table. “This table is where Liam was born.”</p><p>Nick, sitting at the table, slowly lowered his fork. Ian didn’t blame him. He still ate at the table, but he’s had years to come to the conclusion that bodily fluids were probably on every surface of the house from either fucking or fighting. </p><p>Fiona sighed, already having accepted defeat. “There’s nothing we can do.”</p><p>Suddenly a loud noise came from the bathroom as Frank dragged out the toilet. </p><p>“Can you keep it down in there?!”</p><p>Frank, distracted by his latest scheme, replied, “Copper pipes aren’t gonna take out themselves.”</p><p>Of course Frank would only find a quick money making scheme out of this. No thought to mourn the house his children called home. No care that they didn’t have a place to go. </p><p>Frank paused. “While Rome burns, you eat waffles.”</p><p>Ian turned around from the stool he had just sat down on. “You going to take apart the place, piece by piece?”</p><p>“Scorched earth. The preferred method of defeated generals who refused to allow their conqueror the satisfaction.”</p><p>Frank walked back towards the bathroom. Carl chimed in, “Of taking a dump?”</p><p>“Copper’s two bucks a pound.”</p><p>Fiona turned around to face him. “Look we don’t have the luxury to sit around and get weepy. We need a place to live.”</p><p>“Let’s see them try to get Nick and I out. We’ll take positions up at the upstairs windows with M16s.”</p><p>Fiona gave a disapproving look. “Carl.”</p><p>He continued, looking at his youngest brother. “Throw Liam at the bottom of the stairs with some grenades. Think you can pull a pin and throw it?”</p><p>Fiona kept the look up while she grabbed a juice carton out of the fridge. Liam nodded from the kitchen table, clearly not understanding what Carl was even going on about. </p><p>He shifted his gaze to Chuckie next. “Strap Chuckie up with some explosives and throw him off the roof.”</p><p>Ian figured the two had bad beef from juvie. Carl hung with the gangsta crowd and if Chuckie’s tattoo did its job, Chuckie probably hung out with white supremacists. Sammi would be proud, he thought disgusted.</p><p>Clearly not wanting him to continue, Fiona said, “Do any of that and they’ll try you as an adult. That’s big boy prison,” she sat the juice she poured in front of Liam. “Look, the house is gone. It’s over. We need to move on.”</p><p>Chuckie opened his mouth, something everyone hated when he did. “This is all ‘cause of the mud people.”</p><p>He pointed at Nick, confirming Ian’s suspicions and proving a point together in one ignorant sentence. Ian spun the kitchen chair to look at Chuckie while rolling his eyes for real this time. “What the fuck?”</p><p>“That’s what my friends in juvie said.”</p><p>Double confirmation, Ian thought. Sammi really fucked up this kid for life. More so than he already had been before. </p><p>Frank began chuckling. Chuckie seemed confused that nobody agreed with him. “What? What did I say?”</p><p>Ian snapped, “Chuckie, if you want to stay alive, shut up and go to school.”</p><p>Young Hitler complained as he headed upstairs, storming to a room. Whose? Who knew. He guessed technically nobody’s anymore.</p><p>Carl took the opportunity to start up with his complaining instead, “Where’s Lip at? He’d back me up on this.”</p><p>Probably banging his teacher-girlfriend, Ian thought. Fiona continued her fast pacing walking around, finding things to do. He could tell she was nervous. “I told him we didn’t need him. He needs to focus on school.”</p><p>They all needed something else to focus on, Ian thought. At least Lip had the luxury to pour his attention into his future. Ian had already ruined that aspect of his life.</p><p>~~</p><p>Mickey was hanging out under the L, fucking around while shooting his gun. Bullets hit the target attached to the beam across from him. The abandoned lot across the street used to hold the Jackson house, until Frank blew it up. He didn’t miss them, he thought, as another bullet nailed the middle of the target. Sheila was batty for one. Another bullet. </p><p>He remembered back when he was closeted, hitting on Karen, of all people. She was a safe bet, known to fuck anyone. The two had clashed in the past and Karen hated Mandy even before Lip and her happened, all adding to the reasons Karen had flirted back with Mickey but ultimately didn’t sleep with him. Even better though, he still got to pass as straight but didn’t have to fuck Karen to prove it. He looked and smelled like a street rat back then, purposefully using it to repel most of the girls. Bullet in the neck. It worked most of the time, but from time to time it didn’t work and he’d have to fuck one to appear straight. Bullet right in the head. Like Angie. </p><p>Bullet, this time coming from past Mickey’s shoulder. He turned around, seeing Sandy standing behind him. She was wearing clothes Mandy must have left, looking exactly like her but with messy blonde hair. The two didn’t act that much alike though, once you got past the Milkovich traits. Sandy was more cool and collected, casual in her ways. Mandy was a fucking tornado. </p><p>“Come here often, cuz?” she drew out the ‘cuz’, a habit she did often. </p><p>“Just when I need to not fucking shoot someone.”</p><p>She walked towards him, watching him shoot the gun. “I got a date, got any cash?”</p><p>He looked at her, not hearing anything about any guys lately. “With who?”</p><p>“Just a fuck honestly, don’t worry.”</p><p>He wasn’t, she was a Milkovich. She could handle herself. He thought back to Mandy running over Karen. Back when she would defend herself. He didn’t really feel all that bad about thinking Karen deserved it either. He felt that even fucking more when his relationship with Lip had slowly become tolerable, remembering how Karen had lied to him about being a baby daddy and how mad he would be at that. Sure, Svet might be doing that but at least she did it out of a need to protect Yev. Karen was just a class A cunt. </p><p>“Is it Carl? Fuckin’ Gallaghers will stomp all over your goddamn heart and act like they’re doing you a fucking favor.”</p><p>Sandy grimaced. “Eww, no. Also, he was doing you a favor, not saddling you with him for life.”</p><p>Mickey whipped around. “What the fuck did you say?”</p><p>Sandy threw her hands up, surrendering. “Calm down, I didn’t mean it like that. You just seemed more into him than he seemed into you.”</p><p>“Lot of shit goes on behind closed doors, Milk.”</p><p>“What about now? You clearly aren’t over him.”</p><p>Mickey paused, was Ian over him? He loaded the gun with a new round, letting them fly. Bullet. Bullet. Bullet. Bullet. Bullet. Bullet. They all hit the middle of the target. </p><p>He threw the gun down, knowing Sandy would pick it up, before grunting, “I don’t want to fucking hear it.”</p><p>“Fine, fine. I’ll leave you alone. If you give me a twenty,” she flashed a smirk. They definitely were pawned off on each other too much as kids, both picking up similar habits.</p><p>Mickey sighed before digging out his wallet, throwing two tens at Sandy. “Don’t get pregnant, we already have one accident kid at the house.”</p><p>“No worries,” she grinned wider. “Thanks Mick.”</p><p>She picked up Mickey’s gun, handing it back to him and shoving hers in her belt, before disappearing. What did she mean by favor? Was Ian seeing someone? Mickey gritted his teeth, taking a few more perfect shots before grabbing his bag. He threw his gun in it and stormed off towards the Milkovich house. </p><p>~~</p><p>A crackly electric sound, followed by sparks flying, interrupted the conversation. Ian, standing on the side while Nick, Carl, and Liam were still sitting at the table, turned around to look at Frank, who was still tearing apart the house. </p><p>The kitchen lights had gone completely off. Carl, finally moving on from his drama queen meltdown earlier, declared, “I already found a place to crash. I’m going to make it sick though. Pimp out the whole crib.”</p><p>Ian ignored him, clearing the kitchen table instead. Poor asshole who agreed to let Carl shack up with him. He loved his brother but this phase was overbearing lately. Fiona spoke as she continued her nervous tidying up, “Since when did you find a new place?”</p><p>Ian teased. “Going to stay in juvie again?”</p><p>“Why y’all acting like I don’t got nobody else? I got homies.”</p><p>Fiona scoffed. “Homies? Like who?”</p><p>“Gonna crash with Milk. Sure she won’t mind.”</p><p>Ian froze. Milk had always been Sandy’s nickname. Since when was Carl friends with her? He didn’t even know she was out of juvie herself. He wondered where she was currently staying before regretting that. His thoughts ran away from him as he considered the possibilities. </p><p>Fiona glanced at Ian, seeing him freeze but not quite following yet. “I told you. I’d find us a place, you don’t have to worry about shacking up with some girl yet. I’m just not using your drug money to do it.”</p><p>Frank decided money was worth butting into the conversation over. “Must be wonderful living in your little fantasy world where unicorns slide down magical rainbows, and everyone on the southside gets by on the up and up,” he threw his hands up for dramatic effect, “What do you think this neighborhood runs on? It ain’t donuts.”</p><p>Everyone pretty much ignored Frank, used to his long completely misguided speeches. Ian, however, was still hung up on Carl’s comment. Did Sandy live at the Milkovich home? She had in the past. He remembered the time she took over Mickey and his room making the two of them share the tiny couch space, wincing internally when he had to correct himself as it wasn’t his room anymore. </p><p>Was Carl really prepared to move in with his ex if so? Did he even talk to him? Carl hadn’t mentioned it, but he hadn’t mentioned a lot that made any sense lately. Even what he did mention needed to be deciphered half the time.</p><p>Frank resumed his lecture, despite everyone actively doing anything but listening. “Without heroes like Carl here driving our shadow economy, we would’ve gone the way of the dodo years ago,” Frank crept towards Carl, lowering his voice a tad, “ Hey can I get a relocation advance?”</p><p>Carl handed him some cash at the same time the front door was opened. A family of strangers strolled in like they owned the place. Fiona charged towards the front door, visibly pissed at the intruders. “Yo! What the hell?”</p><p>A man put his arms up, trying to not cause any issues. “I didn’t realize the house was still occupied.” Behind him stood a woman and two kids. </p><p>Fiona crossed her arms. “Oh shit. You’re the new owners?”</p><p>“We’re just here to take a few measurements. For the kid’s beds, tile for the bathroom.”</p><p>Everyone was gathered in the kitchen watching. </p><p>“We’re in the process of moving out, but been here since before I was born. It’s a lot of stuff to get together.”</p><p>Technically both true and not true, Ian thought. Aunt Ginger had been there that long but the Gallagher siblings hadn’t moved in officially until Ian was in third grade. Before then, Frank and Monica had jumped around between other relatives’ houses -before they burned those bridges- motels, and nights spent in the car. For the current situation, they’d probably still pity them more with how Fiona had phrased it. A Gallagher did what they had to to get by. </p><p>The man‘s face transformed into pity. “Contractors aren’t coming till next week. If you want to take your time.”</p><p>It must have worked. The other residents of the house walked up directly behind Fiona. They had to have looked like a mismatched batch to the new owners.</p><p>Fiona responded with a sullen look masked across her face. “Thanks, that’s really nice of you.”</p><p>Carl peered from behind her. “Hey. You ever seen what a machete can do to the human body?”</p><p>The family looked visibly disturbed. Ian scooped up Liam, pushing Carl towards the front door. “He’s kidding. Let’s get to school, huh? Come on, I’ll drop off Liam.”</p><p>The bunch pushed the front door open, followed by Nick. They passed Debbie on the way down the stairs. She looked almost defeated, waving a quick and bitter hello at the family. He hadn’t had much of a chance to talk with her in awhile. Not since she upped her stubbornness by at least one hundred.</p><p>She had been staying with the family she nannies for since Fiona and her were still clashing. He watched her open the door before he continued shoving Carl towards school. It didn’t look like any of them were having amazing luck lately.</p><p>~~</p><p>He stormed up the stairs, coming face to face with Svetlana in the living room. She had the ironing board dragged out, clearly trying to iron out all the clothes.</p><p>She had been trying to look nicer for her second job, making more of an effort with her clothes. They were usually just thrown in a pile since Svetlana cared the most about them but she also worked the most official hours, which was laughable considering Kev still paid her under the table.</p><p>“Why you so angry?”</p><p>“Something Sandy said.”</p><p>Svetlana paused, mouth shaped into an o. “She told you?”</p><p>Mickey paced, back and forth. “Well she implied more than anything,” Svetlana began to open her mouth but Mickey cut her off. “What if he is? It's one thing he dumped me, another if he’s already moved on. I came out for the fucker. Got my face fucking rearranged because of him.”</p><p>Svetlana closed her mouth, frowning. “I hear nothing from V and Kev. Fiona tell them everything, nothing must be happening. You misunderstand in anger. What do you think is going to happen, he show back up and fuck you like good times? You must move on, leave carrot boy in the past.”</p><p>Yevgeny squealed suddenly from the floor, delighted as some stupid plastic toy. Svetlana motioned towards him. “See Yevgeny once loved him. Better father than you, but he has already forgotten. Moved on to new plastic toy in front of him. You do the same. If you want I could use plastic toy to fuck you?”</p><p>Mickey stopped abruptly, Svetlana had made practically no advances at him since before Ian and he had splitted. He had really expected her to try a bit more, but was real fucking grateful she didn’t. He had already tried to fuck a woman again after Ian disappeared, not even being able to get into it like he used to do when he had to fake it. He was ruined, a fool for Ian. </p><p>He finally replied, squinting his nose up in disgust, “No, god, don’t try and pull that thing on me again. Fucking you once was more than enough for me.”</p><p>Svetlana smirked. “Some men pay good money to fuck me, you are too lucky and still chose penis.”</p><p>Before he could say anything else, Carl appeared in the doorway. Mickey had left it swinging open before in his rage, but he was glad to not have someone beating on it for once. His giant friend was behind him, no fucking surprise there. </p><p>Svetlana turned to them. “Ghetto boy, big scary black man, what are you doing in my home uninvited? I would say I am surprised but I am use to Gallaghers showing up uninvited. What is American saying? I speak about you to the devil and you appear.”</p><p>Mickey jeered. “It’s speak of the fucking devil, Svet.”</p><p>Carl stepped forward, faking the smirk he always wore nowadays. “We lost the house. Fiona refused to take any cold hard dollas from me and couldn’t afford the crib. You mind if we crash here? I can pimp out the place, free of charge.”</p><p>Mickey, his anger for Ian shifting to concern. “You lost the house? What the fuck, man. Where are your siblings staying?”</p><p>If Carl said Ian was staying with a guy, Mickey may actually lose his fucking mind right now. Carl’s fake smirk was replaced with a real one, clearly reading Mickey’s mind. “Ian’s crashing in Lip’s dorm, Debbie’s shacked up with someone she nannies for, Fiona’s gonna beg V to stay above the Alibi with Liam, and Frank will find some unsuspectin’ person to trap. Never fails.” </p><p>He breathed, letting out a deep breath he hadn't realized he was holding.</p><p>“So can Nick and I crash here?”</p><p>Svetlana and him both answered at the same time, “No.” “Yes?”</p><p>They turned towards each other, Svetlana spoke first. “Gallagher problem is not Milkovich problem!”</p><p>“Yeah I know, but I crashed with them when you first showed up here, hand shoved so deep in my pockets I’m lucky I’m not still fucking broke from it.”</p><p>Svetlana’s voice rose in anger. “That is because you were too busy being rainbow boy to be good husband or father!”</p><p>Mickey sighed in frustration, he raised his voice as he threw up his hands in frustration. “Look just for a fucking week! Fiona’s crafty, she’ll think of something. The whole family is fucking roaches, they’ll figure it out.”</p><p>Svetlana groaned frustratedly. “Fine, one week, top. You watch baby then or make new pets watch baby. I am busy tonight, do not bother me,” she turned towards both boys. “Anything goes missing, I smash heads in with hammer. Do not test me, I did a lot to make it in America, I will do a lot more to keep life as it is.”</p><p>Even Nick broke into a smile that looked as if he may be scared, before agreeing with a nod. Svetlana stormed off to her room to get ready for plans.</p><p>Mickey mumbled, “Fucking Mother Russia.”</p><p>~~</p><p>Ian was removing the tacks in the way so he could take down all the posters that littered the boy’s room when Lip walked in with a casual, “Yo.”</p><p>The posters were almost never changing. Ian still had hot girls tacked up and army ones pinned near his bed, one from his time in the closet and one from before his dream career was ruined.</p><p>“Need a place to crash tonight?”</p><p>He thought of how Carl was maybe staying at the Milkoviches. He felt off about the whole situation. He replied, voice void of emotion, “Looks like it, huh?”</p><p>Lip leaned against the door frame, as he answered cheekily, “Well, if you wanna stay at my dorm room, I promise I’ll let you clean up as much puke as you want.”</p><p>Ian held one of the poster, before retorting, “Don’t you need a place to have sex with your old lady? I mean that literally.”</p><p>He wasn’t one to talk, having slept with Kash and Ned multiple times and many many older men at the strip club, both when he first started working and when his mania was at a high when he was with Mickey. The guilt ate at his stomach. He once again reminded himself that the breakup was for the best. </p><p>“Helene‘s forty.”</p><p>Still younger than Ian’s oldest. He was glad Lip hadn’t brought up Kash or Ned to him, remembering the time Ned had crawled into Lip’s bed instead of Ian’s on accident. Lip probably didn’t want to think of that either.</p><p>“Yeah I’ll stop by after the barbecue. Bunch of firemen are throwing it.”</p><p>“Hey, you banging one of them?” Lip grinned as he teased Ian. Their dynamic survived off playful banter like this. </p><p>Ian made a point to pull out a tack from the wall, not wanting to look at Lip when he announced, “Trying to, why do you think I’m going?”</p><p>Lip had started to pack some of his stuff, he’d probably get less of a chance then the rest of them. “What is with you gay guys? Everything is a straight shot to sex. Even burgers and frisbee.”</p><p>Ian paused before admitting, “Well for one, why waste time? But to be honest, I need a distraction. After our fight I went on a walk, I realized how much I’ve been icing out my feelings for Mickey. I fucking miss him, Lip. Can’t get him out of my head.”</p><p>Lip paused, turning to Ian before asking, “So why do you need a distraction?”</p><p>Ian ran his hand over his face. “I can’t pull him through the same bullshit again. I’m fucked for life, always going to be bipolar.”</p><p>Lip walked over towards him before he pulled him into a hug. He hung on before patting him on the back as he replied, “Hey, you’re not fucked for life. You seem better this week, and either way Mickey was willing to stick around during that. He wanted to be there, highs and lows. I even ran into him recently, he still asked about you.”</p><p>Ian pulled back, surprised at the confession, to look at Lip. “It’s taking everything in me to do what’s right. I want to be hopeful that he still cares, but I can’t lead him on. We both gotta move on,” his look shifted from kicked puppy to fiery determination. “I’m going to that barbecue.”</p><p>Ian hated feeling so hopeful just knowing Mickey still asked about him. His heart swelled up at the thought before he forced himself to think about that terrible breakup on the porch. They were done, no going back.</p><p>“Fine then listen, when you’re done getting your gay on,” he pulled a dorm key out of his pocket, handing to Ian. “This’ll get you into the dorm room, all right?”</p><p>~~</p><p>Carl, Nick, and Mickey all were spread out on the sofa or the floor of the living room, passing a blunt back and forth. Carl had offered Mickey free weed and he wasn’t going to turn that down. </p><p>Carl mumbled, “Where’s Sandy?”</p><p>Mickey lazily replied, “She moved with her abusive piece of shit. Hasn’t been here since before Ian split. Doesn’t usually reply either.”</p><p>Carl raised up on one elbow. “Sandy, not Mandy. Ya know, Milk?”</p><p>Mickey smirked a little too wide. His mom and Sandy’s mom hated each other. She named her Sandy just to piss off Laura, as Laura had stolen the baby name Sandy’s mom picked out. It wasn’t even fucking true, since Terry had insisted on naming Mandy, but the two women still blamed each other. </p><p>Despite their mothers’ dumbass fight, Sandy and Mandy had been close in their youth. Way closer than Mickey was to Mandy. Once they had grown up a bit, Mickey realized he had more in common with Sandy, and Mandy and him just naturally drifted apart, too busy chasing shitty guys. Still clearly doing that though. </p><p>Mickey inhaled another hit, holding the smoke in. He released it but his voice still sounded smoky as he answered, “Oh. Out with a fuck, I guess.”</p><p>A room away, a small whimpering began. Mickey groaned as he rolled off the couch, stuck with the kid while Svetlana was at her job. He also had nobody to ditch Yev with currently, unsure where the fuck anyone was that lived there. He half wondered if Colin was shacking up with some girl, having only seen him on a run lately. </p><p>Opening the door, he could see the outline of Yev. He had the blanket wrapped around his leg and was struggling to raise up while his other tiny hand rubbed his eye sleepily. He reached for him where he laid in Svetlana’s room, a feeling Mickey always found odd. He guessed he’d been around and was forced to help most his life, but he was still thrown off by the fact that Yev clearly viewed him as someone who cared and protected him. A parent even probably.</p><p>He really didn’t want to be conflicted the kid’s whole life, he didn’t want it to cause an older Yev to feel hated. He knew how it felt to not be loved by the two people who were damn sure supposed to feel loved by. It fucking sucked, but he didn’t ask to be a dad either. He wondered if Terry had wanted to be a dad. He could easily guess that he probably didn’t either, considering he knocked up his mom so young and actively hated his children. It wasn’t an excuse to hit or touch his kids though, Mickey clutched a yawning Yev a little tighter at the thought of being anything like Terry. He wouldn’t. If he did anything right in his life, he was going to be basically the goddamn opposite of Terry.</p><p>His back pocket suddenly vibrated. He pulled it out to see Mandy’s name flash across the screen. Speak of the fucking devil, Svetlana’s comment from earlier suddenly seemed more relevant. He hadn’t heard from her in so long, he couldn’t even remember when the last time was. He answered. “What the fuck took you so long to call?”</p><p>“Hey, Mickey,” she didn’t sound the same. “You know how it is.”</p><p>“You mean your fucking woman hitting boyfriend didn’t let you call?”</p><p>Probably in case she tried leaving him, he thought. What a fucking pussy.</p><p>Mandy awkwardly cleared her throat. “I um, I actually left Kenyatta. About a month ago, he was fucking cheating on me anyway.”</p><p>Mickey clutched the phone with one hand, a now sleeping Yev with the other. She sounded different, less angry and her voice held none of the normal growl to it. Mandy and him may not have been the closest in the past, but he was damn proud of her for getting out. He was always scared she’d end up pregnant like their mom and trapped. At least until she had abandoned her kids with her own abuser, before she then fucked off and died somewhere. He was pissed Mandy had stuck around through the beatings and the asshole had the nerve to still cheat on her.</p><p>“Where are you? I can come get you. Bring you home. Terry`s not going to be out of jail for a long time. Think Sandy took your shit though.”</p><p>When she replied, he could hear her smile. “I’m actually back in town already. Got an apartment on the northside and everything. I just wanted to call, I couldn’t text you back before. Didn’t want you all worrying. Want to see you all soon though, see my nephew, the whole family.”</p><p>He released the phone a little, less worried than before. “Hey, what the fuck. You didn’t even tell me?” his voice softened as he realized Mandy had been through a lot. He cleared his throat.</p><p>“Yeah, you’ve missed a lot. It’s fine. Visit sometime and I’ll catch you the fuck up. Probably don’t want a bunch of Milkoviches at a swanky northside apartment. Got Yev with me now.”</p><p>She laughed, “Always gonna be southside, but yeah I’ll stop in. Gotta go, work is calling. Tell everyone I miss them and I’m safe.”</p><p>She hung up before Mickey could reply. He was glad to hear from her, a little mad it took her so fucking long though. He didn’t have to worry about waking up to news Kenyatta had killed her though, which was some relief off his back. </p><p>~~</p><p>Fiona showed up at the Alibi, thankful that Kev and V were letting her room upstairs. She didn’t want to impose on Sean, especially now that Will was visiting. He had offered, but he also only wanted Fiona to stay, and not the kids. The comment sat on her stomach, making her almost want to gag. She didn’t get why no man understood how important her siblings were to her. Sure, she wasn’t their mother, but she felt the same level of fond protectiveness mothers were supposed to feel. </p><p>She wasn’t okay with not being able to support them and was feeling a little defeated stil by that comment, until V had stopped by to help them move. She really had lucked out to have a friend that always had her back no matter what. “Thanks so much, V. You guys do so fucking much for me.”</p><p>She walked them towards the back, where the door to the apartment was. “You know it’s no problem, Fi.”</p><p>“It’ll only be for a few days, I just want to make sure my family is safe. Carl swears he’s got a place, and I know Lip offered Ian a place with him, but that’s a lot of time on public transportation to get there. I figured he may crash here if he’s not working,” she groaned. “I don’t even know about Debbie though.”</p><p>They arrived outside the door as V dug through her purse for a key. “Lana said Carl showed up at their place. Mickey let him stay, surprisingly. That boy’s gone soft. At least for Gallaghers. She’s a bit annoyed to have picked up another stray in that house though, said it’s worse than the whore house she lived in,” V laughed, cracking herself up.</p><p>“Carl’s with Mickey? He mentioned staying with a, uh, Cindy?”</p><p>V dropped the bag full of Fiona’s stuff she was carrying on the table. “Sandy?”</p><p>Fiona snapped her fingers. “Yeah, that’s it.”</p><p>“She’s a Milkovich relative, cocky little slut. Flirted with my man right in front of me,” V’s face wrinkled in disgust as Fiona snickered at her.</p><p>Fiona looked around at her new ‘home’, all she had wanted to do was provide for her siblings and now they were all homeless. For a split second she wished she had left with Jimmy the first time he had asked, before she pushed that thought away. Jimmy and her may have felt like soulmates to her back in the day, but she realized that he wasn’t good for her. Toxic even. He had too much of his own trouble and no regard for how important her family was either. If she ever moved like he suggested, it would only be when she knew they could handle themselves. </p><p>She opened her bag, grabbing out some of her toiletries before countering. “How come I’ve never heard about a sister named Sandy?”</p><p>V grabbed the loaded bag from Fiona, helping her put away the items inside. “She’s not a sister. She’s their cousin. The family is practically all strays, showing up to the Trumbull house when they don’t have a place to go. Apparently Carl and Sandy met in juvie, I think.”</p><p>Fiona rummaged through her bag again, pulling a photo of her and her siblings out. She clutched it to her before she lowered herself on the nearby bed before her eyes welled up. </p><p>V’s face transformed into pity. Fiona knew she’d watched her go through a lot over the years, but she’d always felt wrong when she was separated from her family. They were her reason for existing, or at least it felt like it. V threw her arm around her. “Girl this is just real sadness, no hormones involved. Come here, let's get drunk tonight. Take your mind off things.”</p><p>She leaned her head against her best friend’s, just so fucking thankful for Kev and V. She didn’t know how she would have even made it this far without them. </p><p>~~</p><p>Ian walked past a group of firemen, heading towards the barbecue. He was a nervous wreck, knowing this had to go well if he was going to get what he wanted. </p><p>“Hey Red, come on over,” he heard a voice and looked up to see Jason. “Help yourself.”</p><p>He stood there, stiffly. “Thanks.”</p><p>Jason pointed in the distance.”See those two kids right there playing football? Those are mine. It’s Charlie and Wes.”</p><p>He squinted to see them, spotting two little boys rough housing around. It reminded Ian of himself with Lip. They play-fought so hard that it often turned into a real physical fist fight. He’d had his nose broken many times over dumb shit with Lip at that age, thinking back to once when Lip pinned him down when Ian said baseball was better than football. As Ian was staring at the two adorable kids and reminiscing on his own childhood, Caleb walked up. “Where’ve you been?”</p><p>“I uh, got held up.”</p><p>“You ever pitch?”</p><p>He was surprised Caleb went straight to sex, even if that’s what he preferred. He needed to fuck Mickey Milkovich right out of his system he thought as he glanced up at the sky and remembered how blue Mickey’s eyes were. Yeah, the sooner the better.</p><p>“Usually, but I’m open, depending on what you’re into. Where are we doing this?”</p><p>Caleb nodded his head in the direction he was looking. “Follow me.”</p><p>Ian widened his eyes in disbelief, all while smiling. This was going better than he thought. They walked in silence for a minute, Ian looked up when a fence came into view directly in front of him. Caleb had led them to a baseball field, ruining Ian’s fantasy of a quick fuck.</p><p>“Wait, we’re actually playing softball?”</p><p>Caleb laughed, as if Ian had told a joke. “Yeah. What’d you think?”, he continued. “Zach usually starts on the mound, but he’s had too many Coronas, his stuff is shit.”</p><p>Caleb picked up a uniform, pushing it against Ian’s chest. “You cover second.”</p><p>Ian looked around, unsure of what to say. Caleb picked up on his disbelief. “What? You play, right?”</p><p>Ian smiled thinking back to the baseball field of his childhood league. He had quit when he was young, since they couldn’t exactly afford to keep him in the sport, but he never stopped loving it. His smirk transformed into a huge grin, still in shock of the outcome.  “Oh, sure, I play.”</p><p>“We’ll need all the help we can get. If we lose to the fags in blue, we’ll never hear the end of it.”</p><p>Ian looked at Caleb, he was surprised to hear him say that, assuming only Mickey threw around homophobic slurs as if it was natural. It was natural to him though, being raised by his fag bashing dad, Terry. Ian was confused on who the ‘fags’ in question were. He questioned. </p><p>“Who?”</p><p>“The gay cops.”</p><p>From his side he heard a familiar voice. “You have the right to remain silent while we run the score up on your sorry asses.”</p><p>Ian’s mouth dropped in shock. ”Tony?” no wonder the guy was a virgin before Fiona, as he had overheard V and her mention before. Nothing was sacred in their household. “When did you come out?”</p><p>Tony joked. “Oh your sister turned me gay.”</p><p>Ian didn’t even know how to reply to that, his mouth still open in shock.  “Oh wow!”</p><p>The cop added on, “Just kidding,” he laughed. “I was in denial, refusing to understand I liked guys. Didn’t have any experience with someone who also did and didn’t let them define them. Knew you were gay, but you were just a kid then. Remembered hearing about Mickey coming out before starting a bar fight. That was the moment I realized everything I knew about the community was based on stereotypes. Was surprised to hear he was your man.”</p><p>Ian paled, clearly Tony wasn’t as up to date on current gossip as he thought. That meant he likely didn’t know Ian was bipolar or they lost the house either, all of which he didn’t want to air out this soon. Tony smacked him on the back in a friendly pat. “Didn’t know you became a firefighter though, glad to see you doing so well. Where’s Mickey?”</p><p>Tony glanced around, Caleb looked at Ian, and Ian awkwardly cleared his throat. “Hey, man, I’m proud of you. Takes guts on our side of town. I was actually invited here by Caleb though, I’m not a fireman. Mickey and I broke up, it’s been a moment now.”</p><p>Tony looked embarrassed, reaching up to scratch the back of his head awkwardly. “Oh, hey, I didn’t know. Sorry about that.”</p><p>Before Ian could reply, another cop shouted that the game was starting, saving Ian from having to explain anything else to Caleb. Ian was into it, running so carefree that he felt more alive than he had in awhile. Halfway through the game however, a cop tried to call out Ian for cheating. That didn’t go so well for him though, because Ian swung his fist, connecting it with the guy’s jaw. </p><p>Both sides jumped up, running to the middle to defend their team. Suddenly, the entire field was full of cops versus firemen. The game was called short at that point, with both sides being forced to make up. Ian, full of adrenaline, smiled and laughed as he apologized. He hadn’t had such old fashioned fun in a while. </p><p>He walked towards the barbecue, having lost Caleb. He spotted him sitting on a table, throwing a beer back. Ian had snagged his own beer, but hadn’t even taken a drink yet before Jason came up shouting. “Hey! How about another shot for the Hands of Steel?”</p><p>He placed three shots in front of Ian, pointing at the second. “That one’s for you slugger.”</p><p>Caleb, Ian, and Jason threw back shots before Jason suddenly asked. “So, when you gonna take the test?”</p><p>Ian looked around. “Test?”</p><p>“To become a firefighter, man!”</p><p>Jason tried to jump up on the edge of the table, falling off. He was glad to see them getting drunk, having been unsure of how much was too much before that. Caleb laughed at his friend. Phil, Jason’s husband, showed up and scooped his husband up. He led him to sit down, clearly needing a moment to cool down. Ian’s heart ached at the loving gesture, barely remembering memories of laying in the snow and feeling Mickey's hands grab onto him as he completely blacked out. </p><p>“Oh, man.”</p><p>Caleb laughed as he replied, “Okay, those guys are wasted.”</p><p>“You should,“ Caleb said as both men were still chuckling, taking the conversation back to the firefighter topic.</p><p>Ian’s laugh died down as he leaned on his elbow, squinting up at Caleb. “You really think I could become a firefighter?”</p><p>“Isn’t that why you’ve been hanging around? Cause you wanna go on runs, save lives?”</p><p>Wow, clearly Ian was being too subtle. He decided to up things up a notch as he smiled at Caleb. “Yeah, that, and I was hoping to get my hand on your hose.”</p><p>Ian smirked even more, while Caleb suddenly lost his smile. “Is that what this is to you? A fuck?”</p><p>“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he tried to be less subtle, running his hand up Caleb’s leg. </p><p>“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”</p><p>“No. I knew you were younger than me, but I thought you were a grown up.”</p><p>Caleb walked off, leaving Ian looking confused, before he stood up and followed, realizing how sore he was from getting a few punches in return. “Fuck, okay. Okay. Hey, I thought you were into me.”</p><p>“I am,” Caleb kept walking, confusing Ian even more. </p><p>“Then, what’s the problem?”</p><p>“I don’t stick my dick in just any guy.”</p><p>Ian continued looking confused, why was dating Mickey like second nature and so far every other guy felt confusing as fuck, “What do you want then?”</p><p>“Seriously? You had to have dated. Tony even mentioned your ex.”</p><p>“Those were, uh, unusual circumstances. We didn’t get together like a normal relationship. What, you want a date or something?”</p><p>“Did I have to spell that out?” </p><p>Ian knew he was fucking everything up so he blurted out. “Okay, you’re on.”</p><p>That seemed to work, as Caleb’s face broke out into a smile. Ian was going on a date, and not just any date, this was going to be his first. Real one, he corrected himself as he thought of all those late nights with Mickey. He at the time did consider them unofficial dates, remembering the jokes and bashful looks on Mickey’s face that he worked so hard to conceal with half hearted masks. He then thought of Sizzlers and lost his smile.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Can anybody explain to me why Ian assumed they were playing softball instead of baseball just from seeing them on the field when he walked up? Lol.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. NSFW</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ian laid awake as he watched Lip’s chest slowly rise and fall with each deep breath. He had so generously let Ian use his bed, while he crashed on the floor. He repaid this act of kindness by smacking Lip’s sleeping self with a pillow straight to the face. “What the fuck?”</p><p>He kind of deserved it, after their fight a few days ago. Ian leaned back into the bed. “Hey.”</p><p>Lip rose up on his elbows, before looking groggily around. “What time is it?”</p><p>“Like ten o’ clock. So get up.”</p><p>He’d always been an earlier riser. His mania used to have him up before the sunrise before, but now with it under control, he still liked to be up by nine at the latest. He had tried sleeping in, but just ended up laying there waiting for Lip. That and his phone could only occupy him for so long.</p><p>The older Gallagher slowly rose off the floor, reaching for his cigarettes on the desk.</p><p>Ian watched, waiting for Lip to get situated before he blurted out the real reason for waking Lip up. “I need to ask you for advice. I’m going on a date,”</p><p>Lip lit his cigarette. “With the fireman?”</p><p>“You know, Mickey and I never went out on dates.”</p><p>Lip blew out his smoke. “You’re thinking an awful lot about Mickey for a guy with a date.”</p><p>“I don’t know what to do. I gotta go on this date, I gotta move on. I know it seems stupid, but I can’t keep bringing him down. I think Carl may be crashing at his place though, it’s tearing me apart wondering about it.”</p><p>Lip leaned against the desk, inhaling. “Carl? When did Carl become BFFs with Mickey?</p><p>“Sandy just got out of juvie, apparently she was in with Carl. He says that’s who he’s living with, but because Sandy doesn’t really have a solid place she lives at, she sometimes crashes at Mickey’s place.”</p><p>“Sandy, who the hell is Sandy anyway? I remember seeing her around sometimes.”</p><p>“She’s Mickey’s-“</p><p>A knock on the door cut Ian off. Lip hastily stubbed out his cigarette before replying. “One sec!”</p><p>He jogged over to the door, revealing one of his college friends behind it. “Yo.”</p><p>The guy had a laptop and a look that screamed he had exciting news to share, “Holy shit, dude. Been online yet?”</p><p>“No, I just woke up.”</p><p>His friend replied, clicking away on the keyboard to pull up some link. “That picture of your lady professor showed up on Gawker this morning.”</p><p>Ian didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded bad. “What?”</p><p>The kid turned his laptop around to show Lip. “It’s labeled ‘not safe for work’.”</p><p>Lip looked at the screen before sprinting back to his own computer, shaking the mouse to see the same image on his laptop. His eyes scanned across the screen rapidly. Ian could only imagine the panic he must be feeling, some of which showed on his face.</p><p>He clicked a link, before breaking the silence. “I’ve got a hundred and six new emails.”</p><p>Ian threw on his shoes, walking over to peer over Lip’s shoulder at the computer as Lip spoke. “The Provost wrote me?”</p><p>“What’s a provost?”</p><p>“I’m being asked to appear before a faculty disciplinary committee.”</p><p>Ian glanced down at the ashtray, noticing Lip’s cigarette was still lite. He picked it up, inhaling before saying, “Damn.”</p><p>~~</p><p>Mickey has been sitting at the bar, ignoring Frank’s current rant, for the last twenty minutes or so. Everytime he said something particularly stupid, Mickey motioned for Svetlana to give him a shot. He was about five in, one extra stupid comment coming at the rate of every five minutes. </p><p>Finally Frank at least decided to sit down, signaling Svetlana. “Beerkeep, my daily.”</p><p>Mickey relaxed in his chair, hoping to get some peace and fucking quite from Frank’s loud mouth for a minute. His booze had done a lot to distract him but he was getting pretty fed up. He’d promise V to stop picking bar fights, so he made extra effort not to strangle the damn man.</p><p>The front door was pushed up, launching Frank out of his seat. “Hey! Everyone, an announcement! My winsome young progeny here is with sperm!”</p><p>Mickey turned to see Debbie, with two kids who he assumed she nannied for in tow, for the first time since learning she was pregnant. She was showing but just slightly.  Frank chuckled happily. “Gonna be a grandfather, for the first time.”</p><p>Mickey paused, was Chuckie not actually Sammi’s? He couldn’t imagine her opening up her arms to the young dumbass out of the kindness of her heart. He couldn’t imagine her doing anything out of the kindness of her shrunken blackened heart. He thought back to her snarling face as she got shoved into a different cop car. Served her right, what kind of dumbass comes with no proof like that and a gun? He was surprised his last name hadn’t gotten him locked up with her long term, but maybe that one cop from before pulled some strings again. Mickey slightly thanked him. Yeah, life could suck, but it sucked a lot less on the outside than on the inside.</p><p>Svetlana interrupted his thoughts by barking orders at the two small kids following behind Debbie. “You, wipe tables. You, feed baby.”</p><p>Kevin looked as lost as Mickey about Frank’s comment. “I thought Chuckie was your first grandkid?”</p><p>Frank stared down at his beer. “There is no way that retarded donut is a Gallagher. Probably found him in the discard bin at the Goodwill.”</p><p>Debbie obviously on a mission- why else would anyone willing hunt down Frank- cut in. “Frank, I think you were right about Erica. Things are getting weird. She was holding my hand for like a really long time and staring at me like this.”</p><p>Kevin, still as confused as earlier, asked, “Who’s Erica?”</p><p>Frank shot back. “Her ticket to a new good life, the mother from her nanny job who has lesbian tendencies and a young irresistible female Gallagher living with her,” he turned to Debbie. “Debs, it’s time to face the fact that you are a sweet earthy hunk of Irish sod, meant to be shared by flesh farmers of all persuasions.”</p><p>Debbie’s look mirrored Kev’s permanent one. “What are you talking about?”</p><p>Frank leaned closer. “Erica is in remission.”</p><p>“What? She was dying!”</p><p>Mickey was lost, remission was usually a good thing? The only time he could see it differently would if Terry was the one on his deathbed. He wasn’t sure how someone hadn’t offed the shithead by now.</p><p>Frank nodded. “Well, now she’s not,” he paused to throw back the rest of his drink before continuing. “I’m withholding the news so that you can step up your game-”</p><p>Mickey sighed. “Frank, how ‘bout you step up your game and parent your children?”</p><p>Frank turned towards Mickey. “The young gay taut Milkovich, how’s your own pops?” he turned back to Debbie, leaving Mickey speechless, “but you better do it quick because she’s gonna find out soon-”</p><p>Mickey saw red, he started to stand up to give a beatdown to Frank when Svetlana passed a beer to him and whispered low to him, “You promise V.”</p><p>He sat back down, grumbling, “Fine, but one more dumbass thing outta his mouth and he fucking goes.”</p><p>Debbie continued without turning to the scene that had started to happen. “Step up what game?”</p><p>“There’s no way they’re going to keep a nanny if Erica is healthy. You gotta find another way in. She already thinks you’re a babe,” Frank made a motion as if to grab boobs. “Easy peasy lemon squeezy.”</p><p>“But I like boys!”</p><p>Kev stopped writing to give his input. “How do you know?”</p><p>Debbie paused, then gestured to her stomach. “Hello, a girl didn’t do this!”</p><p>Kev pointed to Mickey. “That one has a kid, and he still used to regularly bang your brother.”</p><p>Svetlana smirked. “Other way, boss.”</p><p>Kev gasped while Mickey barked out. “You say another fucking word and I’m going to shove your head up your own ass.”</p><p>Frank was clearly still on a mission. “Mickey! Young Debs here is too young to know what she likes. When did you realize you preferred the company of young strapping men?”</p><p>Mickey took a sip of his beer before glaring at Frank. “Not your fucking business Frank.”</p><p>The man was not deteriorated by that comment. “I’m sure Mickey didn’t know he favored tall ginger gentlemen from the get go? You may realize down the line when you have a tiny redheaded goblin on your hip that your old man was right. As for now, all you gotta do is a little finger-bang here, nipple-tweak there.”</p><p>Her face was horrified. “I don’t know how!”</p><p>Frank scoffed, in an unserious manner. The deadbeat didn’t take anything but money seriously, “You don’t have to go downtown right away. You can work up to it. Otherwise come winter, you’re going to find yourself begging for pocket change from a roadside snow bank with an infant in your lap. You could ask for lessons from Svetlana, it’s not as if she gets any action from her husband.”</p><p>Mickey stood up.“Okay, fuck the rules,” He grabbed Frank by the collar, dragging him towards the door. “You’re either getting the fuck out, Frank, or I’m going to kick your ass in front of your ‘winsome young progeny’.’’</p><p>Frank squirmed until he weased out of Mickey’s grip. “I’m leaving, I’m leaving! As it is, it seems no Gallagher men enjoy your company.”</p><p>Mickey raised his fist and watched Frank scurry away. If that fucker rubbed the breakup in his face one more time. </p><p>Tommy raised his glass and sarcastically cheered, “A lesson in parenting, gentlemen.”</p><p>~~</p><p>He gazed down at the menu, unsure of what to order. He wasn’t lying when he said he hadn’t been on a date before. It wasn’t Mickey’s fault though, their one real solid attempt had been ruined thanks to Sammi. </p><p>Caleb interjected, momentarily distracting Ian. “I usually get a bunch of apps to share. You good with it?”</p><p>He kind of hated how Caleb said apps, Mickey would have made fun of him for it, it just sounded pretentious. “Mmm,” He looked up at Caleb before looking down at the menu. “Appetizers. Sure, yeah, yeah, big fan of apps.”</p><p>“Uh, hi, we’ll take a bottle of 2005 Boulay Sancerre, some crab cakes, the roasted brussels, the spiced almonds,” he paused, before pointing at one last thing on the menu. “the proslutto plate.”</p><p>Ian didn’t even know what half of what Caleb ordered was. Spiced almonds? That didn’t even sound good. He closed his menu and handed it to the waiter. If Mickey and him had gotten to go on their date, he knew Mickey would have ordered a steak and he would have gotten the biggest hamburger Sizzlers had to offer. They would have both gotten beers, instead of splitting a eighty dollar bottle of wine. He wasn’t one to turn down free alcohol though and hadn’t told Caleb he couldn’t drink a whole lot yet, but he also was not a wine drinker. He felt guilty for thinking so much about his ex while he was on a date, a date where the guy was clearly trying. </p><p>“You seem like a very pensive type of guy. You an only child?”</p><p>He felt even more remorseful. He wasn’t lost in thought but instead daydreaming about a date with another man. “Uh, no.”</p><p>Caleb sipped his wine. “Brothers or sisters?”</p><p>“A bunch, yeah.”</p><p>“Older or younger?” Caleb pushed for more, but Ian just didn’t know what to say. Nothing was coming naturally.</p><p>“Both,” he replied. There, good enough. </p><p>He hadn’t meant to give such short replies, he just wasn’t actually all that interested in Caleb.</p><p>“What about your parents? Both still alive?”</p><p>“Yeah.” He felt like saying that they were barely parents, but yeah. Still alive at least.</p><p>The two had a stare off, Ian felt awkward and unsure what to do. He was clueless in general but had zero motivation to try. Caleb rolled his eyes and grabbed his drink. He sarcastically retorted, “Fantastic. I’m learning so much.”</p><p>Ian stuttered out, “Okay. Look, I... I have no idea what I’m doing. I haven’t really done this, especially so high class. Where I’m from, people just don’t spend this kind of money.”</p><p>“And where is that?”</p><p>“Southside.”</p><p>Caleb nodded, understanding. “Mmhm, hands of steel. Okay, so you’re a street rat. A brawler.”</p><p>Ian pushed on, almost hoping Caleb would say yes. “Is that a problem?”</p><p>“Only if you make it.”</p><p>He didn’t know if he felt relieved or not. Thankfully, Caleb’s phone went off, cutting their date short when it turned out to be from the firehouse. An emergency happened, and he had to go in. </p><p>Though Ian didn’t really care as much as he wanted to, he still asked, “Thought you were off duty?”</p><p>He kinda felt insulted in a way, and then a bit ashamed he was more insulted by Caleb trying to leave than upset by it.</p><p>“I know this sounds like an excuse, considering how well this is going, but Hank’s kid is sick, he needs me to cover.”</p><p>Ian stood up suddenly. “Let me come with you.”</p><p>He didn’t want the date to last, if he was being honest, but he had an ache and knew if he let Caleb leave and he had to go home alone he’d end up in front of the Milkovich house. Which would defeat the whole purpose.</p><p>“To the firehouse?” Caleb sounded suspicious at Ian’s sudden change, which Ian couldn’t fault him for. The feel was obviously mutual for how poorly things had been going so far.</p><p>“Yeah, I want to go for a run.”</p><p>~~</p><p>The bar was a bust. After Sandy had hinted, and Svetlana basically confirmed, that Ian might be dating around, Mickey decided the bar was his best shot. Not his normal, not the Alibi. He didn’t know any queers that hung around there. No one besides him and a handful of butch lesbians. </p><p>He had gone to some skeezy place similar to where Ian had worked, hoping to find a lay. He just needed a good fuck to get his mind off of Ian. Once he was in the club though, he had compared everyone to Ian. One guy had red hair but it wasn’t ‘fresh off the boat from Ireland’ red enough, another’s voice was too high pitched while another just had a fucking annoying laugh. He had managed to get jerked off in the bathroom, but shoved the guy off him and left after that. He heard protests from behind him but didn’t really care. Nothing felt the same, he just wasn’t into it.</p><p>He walked outside, cold air hitting him in the face. He lit up a smoke when he noticed a man walking up to him from the side. He darted his eyes at the figure, and reached for his knife in his pocket when the man stepped directly under the street light, revealing Ned. Nasty kid fucker Ned.</p><p>“Hey, Ian’s little boyfriend, or are you still opposed to that name standing outside a gay club?”  </p><p>Mickey pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and blew the smoke towards Ned. “What do you want, you geriatricate fuck? Looking for some underage kid to touch?”</p><p>Mickey didn’t release the knife, but he didn’t pull it out.</p><p>“No, just looking for some fun. Ian with you? Just wanted to say hi,” he threw his hands up. ”Purely platonic though. Don’t need another bashing on the sidewalk from my favorite thug.”</p><p>Mickey breathed deep, before admitting. “Broke up. Don’t know where he is. Don’t care.”</p><p>He couldn’t help it, denying anything was his go to defense but it didn’t stop his brain from screaming at him for lying.</p><p>“So you wouldn’t mind if I visited him?”</p><p>Mickey turned around, knife to Ned’s throat within three seconds before even realizing it. Ned threw his hands up, surrendering. What a pussy. “I was just kidding with you there. Fresh breakup I guess?”</p><p>Mickey pulled back the knife, letting go of Ned. He sighed. “No. It’s been a while. Feels like years though.”</p><p>Ned looked awkward, before offering, “Want to talk about it? I’ll buy you a drink. Again, purely platonic. You look like you need someone to talk to,” Mickey started to tell him to fuck off until Ned pushed on. “Let me guess, came here for a quick fuck and couldn’t get your mind off Ian?”</p><p>Mickey looked at him, he was half impressed and half extra pissed off. What else was he going to do though? Go home and sit around with Ian’s little ghetto brother?</p><p>“Fine,” he followed Ned into the club, sitting down at the bar. He motioned at the bartender. “Ey, yo, I’ll take a shot of whiskey.”</p><p>The bartender leaned forward, “What kind?”</p><p>Mickey shrugged, alcohol was alcohol. It all tasted like he was going to get fucking drunk from it. </p><p>Ned leaned forward with his card. Mickey could tell it was heavy just from looking at it. “Two shots of Bulleit Bourbon for both of us each. Put it on my tab.”</p><p>Mickey was a little impressed, but shrugged. He also thought Ned had to be stupid waving around that kind of money around a southsider like Mickey. He was asking to be robbed. Deserved it too.</p><p>Ned leaned on the bar before saying, “So wanna talk about it?”</p><p>Mickey shrugged, he didn’t really. The bartender walked up with all four shots. Mickey immediately threw one back. Ned tried again. “Been a while, eh?”</p><p>He wasn’t sure why he agreed to this, he hated Ned, but he figured he had to give him something since he agreed, and was getting drunk on his dime. “Yeah, a fucking while. We’d been on and off since he was fifteen,” he glanced at Ned. “We split a lot before, never since we were official though. They also didn’t feel all this fucking final or last this damn long.”</p><p>Ned took his first shot finally so Mickey threw back his second. Ned leaned forward before asking, “So what happened?”</p><p>He was going to blame the alcohol, he had already been drinking beforehand too because Mickey then did something he didn’t expect. He basically word vomited the whole fucking thing out, “He got diagnosed with bipolar disorder, thought he was a burden on me, I guess. That or he was tired of me. Laughed off everything I had to say, dumped me on his porch. Didn’t even check on me when his crazy half sister came at me with a gun.”</p><p>Eh, sorta half. Not really though.</p><p>Ned looked surprised, probably not used to Mickey not threatening or yelling, “Whoa, that is a lot of heavy stuff. If he’s come around in the past, what makes this time any different? The disorder?”</p><p>Mickey motioned for another drink, not even carrying that he was probably adding this to Ned’s bill without asking, “Yeah, but he might be seeing someone, so I don’t know. Guess he got tired of dealing with me, living with my wife and kid.”</p><p>Ned shook his head, surprised but clearly he understood that. It’s why he came out in a way, he didn’t want to be an old miserable closeted fuck.</p><p>Suddenly, Mickey didn’t want to talk anymore. He had always tackled his problems with his fists and had only slightly even been able to talk about his fucking feelings. Fat lot of good that did for him. He didn’t want to explain to Ned why he had a kid, or a wife. He stood up, knocking his shotglass over. “I gotta fucking go.”</p><p>Ned looked even more surprised, but also understanding. Mickey fucking hated it, wanted to punch that look off his face. He shoved through the crowd, regretting coming out. He always assumed he would beat the shit out of Ned the next time he saw him, not end up practically crying him a goddamn river. He was almost at the door before a hand clapped down on his shoulder. He whipped around, finally expecting to throw a punch before being pulled into a hug by Tony the cop. What the fuck?</p><p>He didn’t keep that thought in his head either. “Tony? What the fuck?”</p><p>Tony was too smiley, clearly happy drunk. “Mikhailo Milkovich! Didn’t think I knew your real name, did ya? Your file’s a hot topic, you being a Milkovich and all. It’s already as thick as a binder and yet you somehow don’t have any serious adult records. I’m both proud and impressed,” he grinned wider. “Iggy and Colin were already in jail by your age!”</p><p>Mickey scowled. “Yeah, well I’m only twenty-one. Got plenty of time to play catch up with my brothers. What the fuck are you doing here? You batting for the gay team now?”</p><p>Tony laughed, leaning into Mickey, who stiffed visibly. “Yeah, well, always,” he slurred as he spoke. “Thought I wasn’t, but was just in denial. Didn’t realize I liked guys.”</p><p>Mickey attempted to lean away, but Tony was just drunk enough to continue stumbling into him. “Hey man, congrats. Takes a lot of guts to come out on the southside,” Tony was practically shooting him puppy dog eyes. Great, first a run in with Ned that didn’t go the way he had practically dreamed about, and now Tony was practically drooling on him. </p><p>He was also supporting himself against Mickey. “You helped that! Came out right in the Alibi. Heard all about it. Realized I really did know tough guys from the southside who struggled with their sexuality too, never expecting you to be one.”</p><p>Mickey softened a tad, but still really wanted out of the situation. He was pretty sure Tony might be projecting a bit. “Yeah, surprised me too. Pretty heavily in denial before Gallagher,” he ducked from under Tony’s arm.</p><p>He started to walk away before he heard Tony shout, “Hey! I gotcha back Milkovich!”</p><p>Mickey smirked, yeah. Tony the cop had a thing for him, as if that was what he needed now. At least this night gave him a good laugh in the end. He could feel the gut wrenching pit in his stomach slowly melt away as he chuckled. </p><p>~~</p><p>After Ian had gone on the run with Caleb, he ended up at Lip's dorm. He walked through his door and immediately crashed on the bed. Lip was out, dealing with the fall out from him fucking his professor.</p><p>The run had been eventful, he was supposed to not get involved since he wasn’t even supposed to be allowed on a run technically but couldn’t resist when he noticed a woman’s arm was broken. A medic bag was lying nearby, abandoned, so Ian rummaged through it until he grabbed the right supplies to bandage her arm up. Caleb had seemed impressed, which did make Ian feel like he achieved something. He may not have made it in the army, but he at least learned some basic skills from his short lived career.</p><p>They had ended up at Caleb’s where he had played up the ‘southside street rat’ view Caleb clearly held of him. They had kissed, and Ian felt nothing. Not a single damn thing. He hated how much he hadn’t felt, clearly hoping he could force sparks to fly. Caleb really hadn’t seemed into him either, at least until he wrapped someone’s arm up. He guessed a streetrat with a heart of gold might have done something for him. He wondered how much the man really felt or if he was just lonely too. </p><p>He was nearly asleep when he heard Lip open the door. “Ian?”</p><p>He raised up slightly out of bed. “You okay?”</p><p>Lip shrugged. “I just sat in while a bunch of old white guys decided I couldn’t see Helene anymore. She also refused to even look at me.”</p><p>He sat, putting his face in his hands, sighing frustratedly. Ian sat completely up before grabbing Lip’s shoulder to squeeze understandably. “That’s rough man.”</p><p>Lip had a six pack in his hands that he tossed on the desk, ripped the cardboard open, and pulled one out. He popped the tag before guzzling what seemed like the majority of the can. Ian was both impressed and disgusted, the scene reminded him of Frank. He pulled another one out and tossed it on the bed to Ian before snipping, “Guess you don’t gotta worry about me bringing the old lady back here anymore.”</p><p>Normally a joke like that for Lip would mean he was going to be fine, but this time felt different. Ian wasn’t sure why exactly, but Lip almost sounded defeated when he spoke. Ian raised up to a sitting position before opening his own can. He replied, “Hey, maybe it’s for the best. You couldn’t exactly have settled down with her or anything, and you were getting attached.” </p><p>“How did you know you were making the right choice, being apart from Mickey?”</p><p>Ian froze. He didn’t, and each day just felt worse and more lonely. He scrambled to explain it, “I don’t, but what kind of life could we have had together? He would have been stuck as my babysitter, taking care of me forever when I go through my lows and dealing with the hurt when my highs influenced me to do stuff that I wouldn’t normally do. Stuff I didn’t have the willpower to stop before. Maybe you and Mickey are the same and not you and I. You both get to move on and find people that you can start a future with. Helene and I would just hold you both back.”</p><p>Lip grabbed another beer, before clapping a hand on Ian’s knee. “You’re too hard on yourself, man. You’re stuck with you forever so you need to figure out what future you have with yourself and work towards it. Stop pushing away anything good just because you got a bad draw.” </p><p>He didn’t reply, unsure what to say. Maybe Lip was right and even this outlook was being clouded by his disorder. Would he ever know if his thoughts were actually completely his own one day? He couldn’t even tell if he was being rational or not. Ian’s mind dwelled on that as Lip and him spent the whole night drinking away their pain. </p><p>~~</p><p> </p><p>Mickey pulled his jacket hoodie over his head, wondering when it got so fucking cold out. He warmed his hand up by rubbing them together, cursing at himself for wearing fingerless gloves. They worked well with his cigarette addict tendencies, but not in today’s unusually cold weather. He suddenly heard heavy footsteps hitting the concrete, as he looked up to see Carl sprinting towards him. Mickey grabbed his knife in his pocket, wondering who he’d have to fuck up.</p><p>He became even more concerned as Carl got closer and he heard, “He fucking killed him!”</p><p>Mickey stiffened, he could hear the real terror in Carl’s voice, the very Carl who had been pretending to be some emotionless gangsta since he got out of juvie. This wasn’t like Kev and Yanis, this was something real. </p><p>He grabbed onto Carl’s shoulder when he reached him, and held him in front of his body as he yelled, “Keep your voice down! Who did what now? Are you fucking okay?”</p><p>Carl tried but failed to keep his voice down as he nearly cried. “Nick killed a kid. A fucking kid. He called the cops on himself and told me to leave but a kid’s dead, Mick!”</p><p>He’d warned Carl, he knew how gangs were, but he hadn’t wanted Carl to see death like that in action to prove his point. The Gallaghers weren’t raised surrounded by that, not like the Milkoviches were. Mickey had never killed anyone but he’d been on enough runs to have seen it happen. He hoped Carl wasn’t in so deep he couldn’t get out, he hoped this would shake him enough to make him even want to. He finally responded, shakily himself, “Shit. Fuck. Are you okay? Did the cops see you?”</p><p>Carl pulled out of Mickey’s grasp before he leaned down to breath, clearly both out of breath from running and also panicking so hard he couldn’t breathe. Mickey cursed. “Hey, fuck. Calm down. Deep breaths.”</p><p>Carl leaned up and put his hands over his head before answering, “Got out before they did. Kid took Nick’s bike. That’s it. Homie fucking took him out over a damn bike.”</p><p>“That’s what fucking gang life will do to you. Come on, you need to sit down and calm the fuck down. Shit like that’s even harder the first time you see it. Let’s head home and get a drink in you,” Mickey rubbed at his eyes, frustrated that someone like Carl could be wrapped up in this all because they grew up in the southside. It wasn’t fucking fair. </p><p>Carl pulled back when Mickey put his hands on his back to lead him towards the Milkovich house. “No. Fuck. I need to go fix shit. I need to get the house back, figure out some stuff.”</p><p>He could see the conflicted thoughts on Carl’s face. He knew he was currently dedicated to G-Dogg and whatever the fuck they called themselves but knew the whole incident had put cracks in that foundation. He hoped that was enough to get the kid to want to get out. He gave it a second before trying again, “Look, you need to sit down and calm down for a fucking minute before you run all over town fixing everyone’s problems. Your adrenaline is through the damn roof. We’re heading home and then afterwards you can play Superman for the day, got it?”</p><p>Carl’s shoulders slumped, all fight going out of him. He let Mickey lead him towards his home. He ached to text Ian, needing help from a Gallagher. He settled on sending Lip a text instead.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Did you notice I deleted that stupid line of Ian's when he's out with Caleb?</p><p>Also, I know. I know, I snuck Ned in. I also don't like Ned but it seemed so in character for the show to call back a character like that? Anyway, I mainly did it because I needed Mickey to have that talk and it not take place in his house or the Alibi lol. Also, he got to threaten Ned so that makes us even for making you see the name. And yes, Mickey did not clearly open up as much as he thinks he did but it's still Mickey and sometimes words are tough. They're extra tough when its not Ian he's talking to.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Pimp's Paradise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Give it to me, mama. Yeah! Every little ripple.”</p><p>Ian had begun to lead Liam into the bathroom, only for his ears to unfortunately be victim to Frank’s sexy talk followed by a woman’s moans. Apparently Sammi’s mom, Queenie, had shown back up in town to take Chuckie home with her. They had rekindled their romance and were now tormenting the Gallagher family’s ears.</p><p>“That’s it, Frankie baby! Right there! Yes, baby! Oh god!”</p><p>Ian paused, holding onto Liam. Poor kid, they hoped he would be the one Gallagher to maintain his innocence, but with the amount of sex he had seen and drugs he had accidentally done, chances didn’t look high. Ian turned to look at Carl, sending him a look of concern before he continued pushing Liam towards the bathroom. The last few days were full of drama. For one, they had the Gallagher home back. Lip had woken him up two days ago by sprinting off the floor, grabbing his pants while lifting the phone up to his ear. Ian had leaned on his elbow, half raised up, watching the scene. He heard Lip talking, voice full of concern, into the phone before finally calming down. He finally hung up with a, “Yeah, thanks. I’ll give him a call.”</p><p>“Who was that?”</p><p>“Mickey,” Ian’s eyes went wide. “And no, calm down it wasn’t about you. Carl’s new gang friend shot and killed a kid.”</p><p>Ian was hit by a wave of shock this time instead. “Woah, what the fuck? Is Carl okay?”</p><p>Lip nodded. “Yeah. Mickey said he calmed him down and gave him a drink. That I didn’t need to rush into fucking town. Just wanted to let me know so we could keep an eye on him whenever we’re home. He’s trying to convince him to ditch the gang, but eh, gangs don’t generally let go of their youths that easily.”</p><p>Ian looked at his lap in shame. If he hadn’t iced out Mickey so hard, he would have gotten the call. It was obvious it was meant for him to, seeing as how he was more likely to be in town than Lip was. Lip had a life on campus while Ian was working a dead end job. Ian felt awful, reaching for his own clothes to throw on. He also felt ashamed that he thought of Mickey before wondering about Carl, but Carl had always been a tough kid. He really did need to make a point to help him get out of the gang situation, but Gallaghers always crawled out of whatever mess they had gotten in. </p><p>Except for him, he seemed to always fall so far down his own rabbit hole that he needed some sibling intervention. His mind wandered back to his love life, his biggest mess. Maybe he had made a mistake, but now he felt so conflicted about what to do. He decided in his head that he needed to at least call off the Caleb stuff. At that very second his phone chimed with a text from Caleb. A text that asked if he still planned on stopping by this morning. Ian groaned, clearly the universe was saying he really needed to visit Caleb.</p><p>Lip watched the conflict run over Ian, smirk visibly growing on his face. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”</p><p>Ian, glanced at Lip and saw the smirk he was wearing. The bastard knew exactly what was going on in his head. He flipped off his brother before shouting, halfway out the door, “Going to Caleb’s. Or maybe Mickey’s. I don’t know, I’ll decide on the way!”</p><p>The door slammed behind him. </p><p>~~</p><p>Mickey was supposed to be on a run, a run that ended a whole day short. He had gone with Iggy, telling Svetlana that he’d be back in three days. Three whole baby free days. They had wrapped up the deal much smoother than normal, probably because Iggy had met a nice girl and was trying to be clean. He gave it two weeks tops, but was pretty entertained by how opposite of the goofy stoned Iggy he was used to seeing he was acting right now.</p><p>Iggy pulled up to the gas station near the Milkovich house, pumping some gas so he could make it to the northside where she lived. He hoped it worked out for him, though he doubted it, wanting to see a Milkovich make it out of the southside. Mickey jumped out yelling, “I’ll walk the rest! Have fun with ya lady.”</p><p>Iggy shot him a look, grumpy from the lack of a high. He flipped him off as he jumped out of the car. Mickey started down the road, he had wanted to enjoy the sunset, and it was at most a ten fucking minute walk. He had even managed to squeeze in a job that Svet asked him to do, earning extra money. He had to split it with her, but it was still money. </p><p>The cold air hit his face, clearing his head after dealing with some bullshit the past week. Carl had officially moved out, so Mickey was glad for some peace and quiet when he got home. He had bought back the Gallagher house after the whole ‘Nick murdering a kid’ mess. Apparently drug money was a much bigger temptation when it was right in front of Fiona. He missed the guy, but he also just wanted to smoke a bowl in his room alone before he passed out for the night. </p><p>He walked up to the front door, swiftly throwing the key in and pushing it open. He was immediately greeted to the site of a naked Sandy and Svetlana on the couch. Svetlana was on top of Sandy, but turned around briskly.</p><p>Mickey threw his hands up, tired of ending up in this situation with Svetlana. “What the fuck are you doing with my fucking cousin! Are you for real? What the fuck Sandy!”</p><p>Svetlana answered, voice making it clear she didn’t find anything wrong with the situation. “She was interested in learning about women's pleasure, I show her. No problem.”</p><p>He turned towards Sandy, who had hastily grabbed a blanket to cover up. She normally was so cocky and sure of herself, but she was currently red from embarrassment. Her face held a look of horror. He softened his look. She stuttered, “Oh, oh my god. I am so sorry.”</p><p>He grabbed their clothes and threw it at them, before walking out. He yelled back, keeping his eyes covered, “Let me know when you’re fucking dressed.” </p><p>He grabbed a cigarette out of his pocket. He remembered the feeling when he was in the same situation, though in his case Terry was definitely the worst person that could have walked in. He couldn’t help but spare a thought to be glad the fuckhead was in jail. He snorted to himself as he realized Svetlana had a role in both encounters. It still hurt to think about that though, he always saw it as the beginning to the end. He thought back to the signs, the time in the living room. Sandy’s date. He didn’t think anything about either, not assuming his cousin would hide that she was a lesbian, from him of all people. </p><p>After a minute, he heard Svetlana deadpan at him to come back in. He walked in, cigarette lit. If she was going to fuck his younger cousin, he was having a smoke in the living room. Fair was fair. “Okay and?”</p><p>Svetlana tilted her chin up. “We have fun, nothing more. As I said, Sandy asked about it so I show her.”</p><p>“She’s fucking sixteen, Svetlana!”</p><p>Svetlana didn’t look as if this matter. “And? In Russia sixteen is allowed. I follow law, I do not do what people did to me before. She ask, I show.”</p><p>Mickey realized that Svetlana had likely been ‘taught’ even younger than sixteen. He felt anger for the woman, someone he didn’t realize he cared about before. Though, he’d always had a soft spot for women in abusive relationships. That’ll happen when you grow up watching your dad pummel your mom for shits and giggles. Then watch your sister end up in the same damn place. </p><p>Sandy, looking down at her lap, stammered out. “I’m sorry Mickey. I didn’t know what to say, I knew you wouldn’t care but you know, it’s in our blood to lay low about that.”</p><p>“Fine, I don’t give a shit what you all do, but the law is still fucking seventeen here,” he knew that from looking it up when Ian was underaged, fucking all the gross ass men who wanted him. </p><p>“Sandy find another girl to fuck, Svetlana stop fucking my family members.”</p><p>Sandy, who obviously had to have known Mickey wouldn’t care, still lit up with the support she was being shown. She watched as Mickey stood up and walked towards his room before calling out, “Hey Mick?”</p><p>He paused. “Yeah?”</p><p>“I’m gay.”</p><p>He smiled and flipped her off. </p><p>“Yeah, I fucking got that.”</p><p>~~</p><p>He had stopped at the grocery store before heading to Caleb’s. He hadn’t meant to specifically buy breakfast foods that he knew were Mickey’s favorite but he also wasn’t sure where he’d end up.</p><p>He wanted to apologize to Mickey, but the very idea of that was exactly what he had been trying to avoid by getting involved with Caleb. Caleb was supposed to have been a fool proof plan. </p><p>The door opened suddenly, revealing Caleb, “Hey.”</p><p>Ian held up the grocery bag, feeling as if his thoughts were written on his face. “Hungry?”</p><p>“I am now. What you got?”</p><p>Oh, just my ex-boyfriend's favorites, he thought, before answering, “Pancakes, eggs, and sausage. Whatever you like.”</p><p>Caleb grinned. “You offering me morning sausage?”</p><p>He walked inside the house with the bag. Ian didn’t reply at first, feeling awkward. He noticed Caleb had been working on a sculpture. Maybe he could make this visit short by commenting on how he had been busy. “Shit, am I interrupting something?”</p><p>He felt how disinterested he sounded, Caleb didn’t notice though. Replying distractedly, “Making a wedding gift for my cousin. No big deal.”</p><p>“Looks cool.”</p><p>He had to admit, the sculptures were always cool. Caleb had talent for the art.</p><p>“Wanna touch?”</p><p>Ian was confused, not sure what touching the metal flower meant. “The flower?”</p><p>Caleb chuckled. “Yeah.”</p><p>Ian leaned forward, grazing the artwork carefully. “It’s beautiful.”</p><p>“Yeah, my cousin won’t appreciate it, but I don’t care. It’s all in the giving.”</p><p>From anyone else, that line may have been honest, but from Caleb it almost sounded like he wanted to rile up his cousin. He wondered what his relationship was like with his family. He couldn’t imagine them functioning like his. Ian was really digging for a reason to get out of there. “You headed to the firehouse today?”</p><p>Caleb started digging into the grocery bag that had the breakfast takeout box. He absentmindedly replied, ”No, took it off for the wedding. Whole family in attendance. Should be fun.”</p><p>Ian thought it was weird how he had skirted across the issue of a wedding again. Didn’t someone usually invite the guy they were seeing to a family event like that? He wondered if Caleb was closeted. He felt out of place suddenly, with how Caleb was clearly trying to not invite him. </p><p>He deadpanned, “Oh. Okay.”</p><p>Caleb dug a fork into his meal, the meal bought with Mickey in mind. “You thought anymore about applying?”</p><p>Ian kind of wondered if this was meant to distract him. “To be a fireman?“</p><p>Caleb answered, “Yeah, why not?”</p><p>Ian paused. He really didn’t have a reason against it. He still felt weird replying though. “I don’t know where I’d start, honestly.”</p><p>Caleb stared him down. “You start as an EMT. I can help you apply.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Sure, what do you have to lose?”</p><p>Ouch that stung. He knew he had been thinking about it but didn’t like how easily Caleb said it. He didn’t have anything to lose, he was a janitor who had dropped out of high school, gotten kicked out of the military, dumped the guy he loved, and had a mental illness that likely caused most of it. He tried to not look hurt as he answered, “Yeah. Maybe,” Caleb nodded so Ian finished. “I should go. Let you get ready.”</p><p>He jumped up, putting his hand on Caleb’s arm. He heard Caleb speak, “Hey listen. Listen,” Ian turned around. “I don’t know if it’s too weird or whatever, but would you want to be my wedding date? My family is a bit much but I think you would make the whole thing a lot more fun. All you gotta do is eat whatever my Aunt Francine offers you, and dance with me when Rihanna comes on.”</p><p>Ian didn’t smile as he spoke. “I can do that.”</p><p>On his way home, he thought over the whole exchange. He was going to that wedding, and he felt terrible about it. Caleb had a way of making Ian feel so small and unimportant, he wasn't even sure how.</p><p>Technically most of what he said was reasonable and none of it was a lie. He realized that ever since he admitted he was from the southside that Caleb had treated him differently. He suddenly changed trains, hoping to talk to someone just as southside as he was. He had plenty of time before the wedding anyway.</p><p>~~</p><p>Mickey swore. If another loud knock interrupted his day, he was going to kick someone’s ass. He didn’t even bother throwing on anything, walking towards the door in a tank top and sweatpants. They were rolled up since Ian had left them and no way was Mickey going to throw out a nice pair of free sweatpants. He walked by Svetlana, who was feeding Yev a plate full of cheerios and bananas as she made no effort to get up. They made eye contact as Mickey said, “You planning on ignoring that?”</p><p>“I feed baby.”</p><p>Yev was always the excuse, but when Mickey tried to pull that card on her, Svetlana would just glare at him. He wasn’t even a fucking baby anymore, leaning more towards toddler age everyday. Mickey shuffled towards the door, not quite reaching it before he heard another knock. </p><p>“Fuck off, I’m coming!”</p><p>He angrily ripped the door from the frame, only to come face to face with Ian Gallagher.</p><p>Ian breathlessly blurted out, reminding Mickey of another time, “Did you want to text me when you texted Lip?”</p><p>Mickey stood in shock. Ian had been avoiding him for months, and was currently at his doorway asking some stupid fucking question. </p><p>“What the fuck?”</p><p>Ian paused. Mickey guessed he finally realized that he had impulsively shown up at this door. “I uh, I guess I just needed to see you?”</p><p>“Now? Well now’s not a good time. Maybe try fucking months ago.”</p><p>He started to slam the door, anger building in him that Ian showed up only for that, but Ian threw his arm in the way. Mickey glared at him but Ian stammered, “Look, I’m sorry. For ghosting you, and whatnot.”</p><p>Mickey held the glare. “And whatnot he says. You mean dumping my ass?”</p><p>Ian winced, causing Mickey to feel satisfied. “Yeah, I uh, could have handled that better. I should have gotten help before, but I’ve been taking my meds. Haven’t had an episode in a while.”</p><p>Mickey looked Ian up and down. He looked loads better than he did at the Alibi. His shirt was wrinkled like it was hastily pulled out of a drawer that Ian had previously shoved it in like he always did before and his brow was covered in sweat as if he just ran here. His green jacket wasn’t even completely buttoned, just slung on as an afterthought. Yet, he still looked so much better. His skin was flushed instead of taunt and pale and his eyes held so much emotion instead of staring at Mickey with a dead vacant look to them.</p><p>Mickey hated how proud he felt over the change, his body naturally reacting like Ian was still his. Ian stood still, watching Mickey watch him. The two locked eyes before Mickey looked away. He wasn’t going to get screwed over by Ian Gallagher again. Ian pulled him from his thoughts as he suddenly spit out, “I’m mainly sorry I pushed you away. I should have at least been there, instead of avoiding you. I’m glad Carl had you, but I wish I had made it where you felt okay to text me.”</p><p>Mickey started to reply before he heard Svetlana in the background. “Who is there?”</p><p>Mickey shouted back, “Nobody, don’t worry about it!”</p><p>Mickey could see Ian visibly flinch. He remembered back to the time the three of them easily coexisted. It wasn’t what he expected when he came out but he had actually started to enjoy their dynamic, or maybe he was just convincing himself it was so fucking great because Ian was there then. </p><p>Sandy appeared suddenly behind Mickey instead, her default bitch face transforming into a bitchy smirk instead. “Ee-a-nn what are you doing here? Come to break some hearts?”</p><p>“Uh, no, just, I’m not sure. I guess I’m here to say sorry?” Ian’s shoulders hung low, clearly embarrassed.</p><p>Sandy puckered her lips, raising her voice to sound young and innocent. “Oh, for what?”</p><p>This caused Mickey to smirk. She was such a bitch, but he was glad someone had his back. He didn’t use to feel like he had anyone on his side in the past. Except for Ian, but that clearly hadn’t lasted. </p><p>Ian’s head somehow dipped even lower. “You know what, I should probably leave,” he raised his head and made eye contact with Mickey. “I know I can’t say it enough, but I really shouldn’t have handled things that way. I’ll see you later Mick.”</p><p>The ‘Mick’ is what got him. He reached out and grabbed his wrist, before softly saying, “Gallagher, I read a-fucking-lot on bipolar disorder when you were diagnosed. Just don’t be so hard on yourself.”</p><p>He shot Sandy a look that he was hoping read ‘fuck off’, before watching her dart back in the house while giving him the middle finger. Ian looked at him, before smiling. His eyes mirrored the big wide eyes he used to look at Mickey with before his smile turned almost sad. “Yeah, Mick, I won’t. Thanks. I uh, I gotta go. Running late.”</p><p>Mickey watched him walk away, feeling confused and hopeful. </p><p>~~</p><p>Ian sat outside the Gallagher’s house, inhaling a cigarette. The whole day had taken a lot out of him. He wasn’t sure what impulse had made him show up to the Milkovich house, but he felt like he had let himself take a hit and now he wasn’t sure if just seeing Mickey once was enough. </p><p>He also wasn’t sure what he was doing with Caleb either. He considered the overall wedding a bust. It was clear that Caleb had invited him, last minute, when he realized it would piss off his family. He didn’t even bother warning Ian that his dad was a homophobic pastor or that his entire family would be staring at the two like they were an exhibit at the zoo. Ian had managed to make the most out of it once he did know what was going down, but he wasn’t sure about how he felt with being used like that.</p><p>He thought back to how an out and proud Mickey handled the homophobic church when they were together. He could only have imagined if Mickey and him were at that wedding. He would have let him know the goal upfront, forming a plan to really make them have to watch. The walk home after hadn’t put his mind at ease. Caleb had suddenly asked, “So what are we doing?”</p><p>Ian answered, “Whatever you want, I guess.” He thought he had sounded bored, just giving Caleb a blank slate to work with. </p><p>Caleb replied, “I want you. Now.”</p><p>Ian thought the words were hot and should have had him feeling tingly inside but even the delivery was off. He was really beginning to suspect Caleb was keeping him around to bother his family. Caleb leaned forward, kissing Ian. Ian felt nothing. He wanted to, so bad. Caleb was so good on paper, a safe bet. </p><p>Mickey wouldn’t be hurt anymore if Ian could move on and Ian wouldn’t feel so drawn to go back. He pushed his frustrations into the kiss, only to be cut off as Caleb leaned back and scolded him like a child. “Hey hey hey, it can be much smoother than this.”</p><p>Even that comment made Ian wilt. He knew it could be softer and smoother. He liked sweet mellow kisses, but he always preferred the hungry deep kisses he shared with Mickey. He had always felt as if he couldn’t get enough when he kissed him, putting his whole being into those moments.</p><p>Ian got lost in those memories, thinking back to gentle kisses and hungry kisses with the boy he had spent so long with. So long chasing until he had thrown all of it right back at Mickey. He only realized this when his cigarette ash fell, jolting him back to reality. He tossed it on the ground, reaching his leg slightly out from his sitting position on the front steps to grind down against the bud, making sure nothing would catch a spark. </p><p>~~</p><p>Mickey was staring at a wall of baby shit at the grocery store. Svetlana has basically forced him out to grab diapers and whatever the fuck else they needed, having had agreed to watch V and Kev’s twins while the pair were on a trip. </p><p>Course, she didn’t ask Mickey if it was okay. At least he had answered Carl’s plea to move in while she was in the room. Mickey had been napping on the couch, when suddenly a pull on his hair had woken him up to three pairs of toddler eyes staring at him. Amy or maybe Gemma, he’d probably never learned which twin was which, had a handful of his hair and pulled again.<br/>
He wretched back. “Hey, ow! Fuck.”</p><p>Svetlana shot him a look. “We babysit chocolate-vanilla babies. Yev bonds. We do not cuss in front of others’ babies.” </p><p>Mickey shot her a look back. “Or what? I’m sure V and Kev practically go at it in front of them, they do in front of me and I only see them at their own damn bar.” </p><p>Regardless, she practically shoved him out the door with a written list that was barely legible, and not because of his lack of reading abilities. Fuck you very much. He now stood, peering at the overwhelming wall of diapers with no idea which brand to grab. Fuck, he just grabbed a diaper from a stack next to him when he was stuck with Yev. He wasn’t even certain on the size. He scanned the prices and compared the sizes he guessed he’d be in, mentally thanking Terry sarcastically for the one decent skill he had picked up from his years of being a menace to society. Before he could reach for the cheapest pack with the most quantity, he heard a soft voice next to him say, “Oh avoid that brand. Broke Liam out in all kinds of hives.”</p><p>He turned to see Fiona standing next to him. She still did that sad gaze when she saw him. The two had started to bond over their mutual worry for Ian, before Ian dumped his ass and cut short Mickey’s relationships with basically everyone he had at that point interacted with. Fiona held up a toy giraffe, shaking it so Mickey heard its little rattle. “Peace offering for Debs. Sammi’s mom popped into town and has basically sided with Debbie on this pregnancy. Just because I don’t agree doesn't mean I don’t care.”</p><p>Mickey grunted out, “Didn't want Yev either.”</p><p>Fiona smiled even more sadly. “You seem to be doing better with him.”</p><p>“Yeah well, not his fault he’s a Milkovich. No kid deserves having Terry as their pops so as long as Svetlana forces him on me I’m going to make some fucking effort,” he said. He wasn’t sure if he meant that he was protecting Yev from the possibility of being Terry’s son and not his, or if he meant caring for him because Terry has been a shitty dad to him. Both, probably.</p><p>“Hey bring him by sometime. I got close to the little guy, before ya know. I wouldn’t mind watching him, and it’ll be good practice for Debbie if she keeps hers,” she groaned. “Maybe it’ll scare her into giving hers up for adoption.”</p><p>Mickey reached for another brand, but Fiona cut him off grabbing an equally cheap brand, “Here. This is still affordable but it’s worked. Tried and true by all the Gallaghers. I’ve been changing my siblings diapers since Lip was a baby.”</p><p>Mickey threw the box in his cart, before returning, “Eh, yeah, maybe. I talked to Ian. I guess if he’s suddenly fine with me again it’s not a big deal to come by. Svetlana thinks Yev needs friends, I don’t fucking get why. He’s a baby, not like he’ll remember any of this.”</p><p>She laughed. Not like she had to worry about that, the Gallaghers had enough siblings to keep each of them entertained. </p><p>She grabbed her own pack, for Debbie’s peace offering he assumed, before answering distractedly, “Oh did you? That’s good. Maybe you can be friends now that he’s got Caleb. You’re good for Ian, I didn’t want him to cut you off.”</p><p>Mickey froze. Caleb? Who the fuck was Caleb. Fiona must have noticed a change in the air around him. She turned around suddenly, dropping her box with a thud on the ground before frustratingly raising her voice, “Oh fuck, he didn’t say anything did he? Fuck, I didn’t mean to break the news Mickey. I just figured since you both talked. Damn it, Ian!”</p><p>Mickey pushed the cart towards the front, movement almost robotic, before he paused to reply, “No don’t worry about it. He had to sometime, right?” </p><p>She looked embarrassed to have broken the news. She bent down to grab her box, which now had a small dent in it. She groaned out, “Yeah but you mean a lot to him, even if he won’t say it to you. I shouldn’t have been the one to tell you, he should have the balls to do it himself. God, he’s been on my ass for ghosting my husband and he’s practically doing the same!”</p><p>Fiona had a point, Ian and Mickey had been literally raising a family. Even if it was a weird ass mess of a family. Where had he even met Caleb? He’d spent so much time being in a low, that Mickey wasn’t sure. Then again, he’d first fucked Mickey when he had snuck in his house to try to take a gun back so clearly the answer could be fucking anywhere. Was he late to meet Caleb that day he’d bursted back into his life? So many questions swirled around in his head. </p><p>He pushed his cart towards the front of the store, grunting a bye to Fiona, before walking towards the checkout. He didn’t even care if he hadn’t gotten everything he needed. He barely made it outside before he felt the tears come, eyes welling up before he blinked them away.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ahh! I think it was maybe obvious I was building up to the Sandy/Svet scene lol. I did just want to be able to write in a plot that felt more like an early seasons Shameless plot, but I really wanted to be able to introduce a parallel between Ian/Mickey's 3x06 scene and this scene. Clearly it's different because Sandy got caught while Svetlana was also involved but she was met with far more acceptance. I also just love parallels in general so I tried to sneak in a handful.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Be a Good Boy, Come for Grandma</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A cowbell? Ian was pretty sure he heard a cowbell from downstairs, along with Queenie’s voice yelling out, “Tribe! Breakfast!”</p><p>He rolled over, grabbing his pillow to throw over his face. He had been up all night studying, having decided to at least try to become an EMT. It was better than being a janitor and he guessed the worst they could do is say he failed his practicals. Or at least, Caleb thought so..</p><p>He heard his siblings stir suddenly, while Chuckie shouted his name over and over so he rolled out of bed or else he was going to cause bodily harm to the kid. He hoped Queenie got him out of here soon. He had no idea how Queenie fit into any equation. She didn’t act like Sammi, besides the white blonde hair that had to be dyed on both of them, you wouldn’t know they were related. Sammi had always acted like trailer trash, while Queenie was a nice old hippy. He was even less sure why she hooked up with Frank once upon a time. </p><p>He reached for his pills to take before he followed Chuckie down the stairs, being happily greeted by Queenie once again. “Good morning!”</p><p>Debbie, who had moved back in once the house was saved instead of staying at her job, had Liam’s hand. Carl followed behind the pair. She stopped abruptly upon seeing the table moved into the living room. “Why are we here?”</p><p>Queenie replied with a tight smile. “We eat at the dining room. Like civilized people.”</p><p>Ian paused next to Queenie. “Since when?”</p><p>They were Gallaghers, that was barely the equivalent of civilized people. </p><p>“Since Queenie,” she met his eyes. “Have a seat. Let’s get you your flaxseed oil pills. Good for the heart.”</p><p>She walked around laying a pill in front of each Gallagher while speaking. “Good for the hair. Your colon.” She laid a bunch on Frank’s plate. “Daddy. Prostate,” a pill was carefully placed on Debbie’s plate. “and your baby.”</p><p>Frank walked in suddenly carrying plates of food. That was a new sight. “Quinoa pancakes and yucca fries.”</p><p>Ian couldn’t help but ask, “What the hell is a quinoa?”</p><p>Chuckie joined in. “Yucca fries sound yucca.”</p><p>Carl jumped up. “Yeah, I’m just gonna go to Mickey D’s.”</p><p>“I’m going to go upstairs to study for my EMT test,” Ian jumped up after Carl. Debbie followed after, asking to go with Ian. </p><p>Suddenly a slam was heard behind Ian, replaced by Queenie’s voice. “Come back now!” she stood up. “Look, your father went to great lengths to prepare this breakfast for you. With love. So you’re going to sit your little asses down and enjoy it.”</p><p>Ian met Debbie’s eyes from opposite sides of the room, he nodded toward the chairs, figuring it was best to just go along with it until Queenie ultimately disappeared like anyone Frank brought around. The whole family made their way back to the table. </p><p>“Need to have a little more respect for this man, right here,” she ran her hand through his hair while standing above Frank. Ian would never understand how Frank charmed all the ladies to believe everything he said. He was sure everyone that listened to Frank thought all his kids were terrible and treated him like dirt. </p><p>Of course Frank would be enjoying this, as he opened his mouth to agree, “Yeah, you hear that? </p><p>Queenie started singing, while Frank joined in. Ian drowned them out. The past month had been an experience. He had felt more okay with himself, all because he had talked to Mickey. Really talked to Mickey. He should have known he was going to fuck that one up. He’d purposefully avoided mentioning Caleb to his ex, which returned to bite him in the ass. </p><p>He had been sitting on the couch of the Gallagher house, studying his notes, when someone started beating on the door. Ian, Carl, Liam, and Debbie all jumped before turning to look towards the front door. Carl almost immediately sprinted upstairs, clearly worried it was for him. The whole situation led him to talk about putting up an escape route in their bedroom window, though he’d yet to do it. </p><p>Debbie looked around and yelled, “Ugh, so nobody else is going to get that?”</p><p>“Studying,” he held up his notes. Liam didn’t say anything, too absorbed into the tv. She stormed to the door, pulling it open. The figure didn’t even let her say anything, shoving past her before charging in.</p><p>He heard his name in a familiar voice, “Ian Gallagher!”</p><p>Oh shit, he thought. He didn’t know how he found out, but he knew he had. His notes were suddenly ripped out of his hand, before he felt a hand grab his collar and lift him up. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t punch your fucking lights out?”</p><p>Ian threw his hands up in surrender. “Look, I already know what this is about. I’m sorry, it’s complicated. I should have told you.”</p><p>“I didn’t think one visit and a lousy apology meant shit was magically fixed, but you could have at least been fucking honest with me. Just because you’ve moved on doesn’t mean you fucking get to use me like that.”</p><p>Ian’s throat clenched, unable to find any words to say. He braced for impact, expecting to feel a jolt of pain before he was suddenly tossed aggressively against the sofa.  Turns out he might not have been the only one as he heard a sharp gasp come from Debbie. Before he could say anything, Mickey stormed out of the house. Slamming the door behind him. Ian reached up and cupped his injured face where he might have landed a little harder than anticipated. Ouch. He wasn’t mad though. He knew he should have mentioned it instead of skirting around the issue.</p><p>“Fuck! Ian! Are you okay?”</p><p>He turned to see his siblings staring at him, both completely at a loss on how to react. He shrugged, rubbing his face. He wasn’t okay, he hadn’t been since they broke up. </p><p>~~</p><p>He growled as he tore through his second six pack of beer. Fucking Gallagher, always fucking up his day. He sat outside on a lawn chair that had been put away during Ian’s manic cleaning of the Milkovich house. He dragged it out while he was still on his first six beers, feeling satisfied at the act of rebellion.</p><p>There Ian, he thought, the yard isn’t completely spotless anymore. He threw a beer bottle across the lawn to further add to his spite. His jacket was falling off his shoulder, causing him to freeze to death, but he didn’t care. He lifted another beer to his mouth as he spotted Svetlana through the window. She shook her head at him and he responded by saluting her with his middle finger. Her face twisted up as she closed the curtains dramatically. </p><p>The gate to the porch squeezed as he spotted Carl shoving it open. He locked eyes with Ian’s brother as Carl gave him a look and questioned, “What’s got ya set off?”</p><p>He reached next to him as he grabbed another bottle. “Bitch that you call a brother didn’t tell me he had a new boyfriend.”</p><p>Carl winced, “Ouch. Gotta free yourself, homie. Cut ties.”</p><p>Mickey held the bottle close, not saying anything in response. Even now, he didn’t want to cut himself off from Ian. He was finally speaking to him again, and what did he do? Stormed into his house, practically being a girl over him having a new boyfriend. Giving him a reason for the two of them to never speak again. He groaned out loud as Carl watched him go through an internal debate. </p><p>As if he could read his mind, Carl cut in, “Whatever you did, Ian probably agrees that he deserved it. Can’t keep dragging ya along like some kind of chick.”</p><p>Ian didn’t deserve it though. He knew he didn’t, which is why he didn’t follow through but the guilt was already eating him up anyway. “What do you want, Killer Carl?”</p><p>A lazy catlike grin split on his face. “I’m getting out. Need advice.”</p><p>Mickey leaned forward, meeting Carl’s eye as he took another big gulp of his beer. “The gang? Fuck man, why didn’t you start with that?”</p><p>“You’re pretty shmacked, cuz.”</p><p>He threw himself back on the chair, waving his hand as he threw his other arm across his face, “Fuck out of here. I’m fine,” he looked out from under his arm. “When are you supposed to meet G-Dogg next? Get more supplies?”</p><p>“Already was, but uh, I can let him know to meet me tomorrow at the normal spot?”</p><p>“Good, I’ll borrow the car,” Mickey slurred out. He started to take another drink but threw it down next to him. He didn’t need to be getting day-drunk or be pitying himself over some dick. It was bullshit Ian didn’t tell him. His face softened. Ian wasn’t just some dick though, no matter how much he had tried to tell himself that. He had loved, still loved, that absolute asshole. </p><p>“For what?”</p><p>He half forgot Carl was there. He mumbled, feeling like shit from all the beer, “I’m going with you.”</p><p>~~</p><p>“M-C-I. Multiple casualty incident. D-CAP-B-T-L-S. An acronym used to remember soft tissue injuries to look for during a traumatic injury assessment.”</p><p>He rolled off the couch, leaving the paper he was holding on it as he placed his hands and feet into push up position. He started to go up and down as he named off what the acronym meant. “D, deformities. C, contusions. A, abrasions, P, punctures. B, bruises. T, tenderness, L, lacerations. S, swelling,” Ian jumped up, having finished his set of pushups before continuing. “D-CAP-B-“ </p><p>He caught Caleb’s eye. “Speaking of bruises, what happened to your face there?”</p><p>Ian grimaced before mumbling, “Ran into something,” </p><p>Not technically a lie, his face definitely rammed against a broken frame in the couch that often claimed unexpected victims, but he can’t really blame anyone that they’d never bothered to replace it. He decided to change the subject before Caleb pushed anymore, focusing his attention on his notes before skimming the passages. This made him feel alive again. He cracked a smile as he looked over the booklet, amused that he was absorbing it all.</p><p> </p><p>Caleb noticed the change. “What are you smiling at?”</p><p>Ian knew he was grinning widely. This EMT training has rekindled something he knew was missing but didn’t know how to fix. He had missed passionately looking forward to a future, any future. That had all been destroyed for real with his disorder, just like everything else.<br/>
Caleb was fixing up some old metal into a statue. The sculptures always managed to impress Ian a bit. Caleb smiled at him. “I like having you over here. What are you smiling at?”</p><p>“I like having a purpose. Studying to be an EMT. Feels like I’m back to my old self.”</p><p>“Meaning?”</p><p>“Skeletons. Closet,” Ian had paused before saying that. He thought about confessing about his bipolar disorder. He didn’t want to scare another person he was seeing when he had a low episode or his meds went out of whack. They were actually doing decent though, even if something in the back of Ian’s head said that was only since he had actually ruined things so hard with Mickey. </p><p>Caleb shrugged and went back to working on his sculpture, before adding, “Hey so I’ll be out late tonight. I’m meeting an old high school friend for dinner,” he walked right past Ian, not meeting his eyes. The mood shifted dramatically, Ian suddenly felt so confused. </p><p>He pushed for more info. “Old friend?”</p><p>“Denise. Denise, not Dennis. She’s married with kids.” </p><p>Ian reached down to grab his booklet. “Oh?” </p><p>He looked back up at Caleb, who didn’t meet his eyes. His brain screamed at him that something was wrong. Should he voice it though or would he come off as crazy? Caleb didn’t usually understand Ian’s points. He swiftly walked past Ian, before grabbing his book. He flipped to a random page, studying the manual on it before asking a question over it.</p><p>Ian smirked, answering perfectly before dropping back into a push up. He felt like he did when he was younger, standing in the Kash and Grab, forcing Mickey to quiz him for his West Point application. He He drifted off into a daydream about Mickey, forgetting all about Caleb and his odd behavior. </p><p>~~</p><p>“Mickey, we don’t have to be doing this,” Carl pleated. Mickey was driving the car he borrowed from Iggy. He wanted a quick getaway, knowing if shit went down that riding the train there would likely get them killed if they decided they needed to run. </p><p>“Look your brother is worried about you,” he meant Lip technically but he was sure Ian was too. “Let’s see if we can fucking end this.”</p><p>“Doubt it,” Carl stared straight ahead, body completely still.</p><p>He parked the car, spotting another vehicle. “That the bastard?”</p><p>“Yep.”</p><p>A group of six exited in front of them, walking towards Mickey’s car. “That’s the guy you’ve been working for? What the fuck, Carl.”</p><p>Carl climbed out of the car, Mickey following after him. </p><p>“Yo, what up?”</p><p>G-Dogg got up in Carl’s face. “Yo, you playing Houdini on me?”</p><p>“No,” he still didn’t move, trying to appear casual but failing. Mickey could practically see the nervous energy rolling off on him. </p><p>“You weren’t at the spot this morning, Lamar said some old dude showed up instead.”</p><p>If Mickey had to guess, that old guy was Frank. Carl mentioned him nearly having a breakdown over him trying to get out of the business. He walked behind Carl.</p><p>“I recognize those knuckle tats, you a Milkovich?”</p><p>“Damn straight.”</p><p>The man chuckled. “Heard you weren’t anymore. Word gets around,” Mickey clenched his jaw. Not that it mattered to him, but shit like that always knocked him down other people’s badass charts. He didn’t get it, they should try taking a dick and see how much that shit could hurt. The whole situation suddenly may be a bit harder to get Carl out of than he had initially thought. </p><p>Carl stepped forward. “I’m done.”</p><p>“Oh, so we about to stomp you both out, huh? Haven’t gotten the honor of fucking up a Milkovich before.”</p><p>Mickey also walked closer, trying to toe the line between fighting and rolling over. “And you ain’t going to. He’s done. No need to start a fight you can’t finish. I got a lot of relatives, in and out of prison.”</p><p>He drew out the lot as he said it, wanting to make a point that if the Milkoviches were anything, it was fucking plentiful.</p><p>G-Dogg hesitated. “Don’t be roaming wild, spilling trade secrets.”</p><p>“Kid didn’t spill when he was doing time, could have pointed one fucking finger, reduced his sentences or gotten out of it. Know his whole family, they ain’t snitches,” Mickey argued back.</p><p>He thought back to Fiona’s jail time. All she had to do was blame Liam’s coke incident on an ex, but she didn’t. Kept her mouth fucking shut, he respected her for that, but knew she should have squealed. Life got harder for the rest of them because of that. </p><p>G-Dogg addressed Carl, nodding his head towards Mickey. “How do I know you won’t go work for him?”</p><p>Right at that time, a police car pulled up. Oh fuck, Mickey thought. Carl’s face mirrored Mickey’s. The door opened, and Tony walked out. Oh thank fuck, Mickey corrected. Another cop followed behind him. </p><p>“What seems to be the problem here, boys?” Tony asked. Mickey knew if shit went sour, Tony wasn’t going to haul Carl and him in. Not after that display of affection at the club at least.</p><p>“Morning Officer Markovich, just letting my friends here know we’re done with them. Isn’t that right, boys?” Mickey crossed his arms while smiling. He even threw in a cheeky wave of his fingers, rubbing it in G-Dogg’s face that he currently had the advantage. </p><p>Realization dawned on G-Dogg as Mickey made a point to play up his friendship with Tony. He spoke again before G-Dogg could say anything. “They wanna know why Carl won’t be selling drugs for me, wanna clue them in Tony?”</p><p>Tony looked visibly taken aback before answering. “Because Carl’s gonna do volunteer work for me forty hours a week, working at the police station. No time for drug running with my pal Mick here. Is that okay with you?” The question was directed towards G-Dogg. He realized quickly he wasn’t going to trap Carl in the gang. </p><p>He sneered. “Yeah, that’s fine. Lamar mentioned a backup anyway. White boy is more trouble than he’s worth anyway, stupid too.”</p><p>Carl’s face transformed into a snarl before he realized he was free. G-Dogg and his pals piled back into their ride and left. They peeled out of there, knowing Tony wasn’t going to go after them either. </p><p>Tony threw his arm over Carl’s shoulder, pulling him in for a half hug. “I don’t know what I just interrupted but it’s pretty clear I got here in good timing. You both think you’ll have more trouble from them? Need me to set up a patrol around South Wallace?”</p><p>Mickey let out a breath of air that he didn’t realize he was holding. That could have gone way worse. “I don’t think they’ll go after Carl. They think he’s got shit for brains, thank fuck that Gallagher trait is in you all. A patrol is probably a good idea for now though, just in case they change their minds.”</p><p>~~</p><p>Ian sat on his porch steps, trying to clear his brains. He watched as a police car pulled up with the lights on, closely followed by a small familiar car. Bewilder by the sight, he watched to see who would get out. He was slightly confused to see Tony exit and wave at him, but even more baffled to see Mickey and Carl exit out of the car behind him. He immediately locked eyes with Mickey’s, only looking away when Tony said hey.</p><p>Carl opened the gate and walked through. “Got out of the gang, Tony’s here to do patrols for a while. Mickey and him saved my ass.”</p><p>Ian jumped up, grabbing Carl in a hug. “Shit man, you okay?”</p><p>Behind him, Mickey and Tony walked towards the house. Carl let go of Ian and walked inside, muttering about being fine. He looked exhausted but relieved. Ian figured he’d let him go take a breather, probably just shocked he managed to get out. Tony walked inside, probably to chat. No matter what happened with Fiona and him before, he was still just a friendly guy. He probably didn’t actually care either, considering he batted for the other team.</p><p>Mickey started to follow, walked through the open door before he paused. He shut the door and came to sit next to where Ian had been sitting. Ian awkwardly stood, unsure of what to do. </p><p>“Sit the fuck down. You’re making me uncomfortable standing there like a fucking weirdo.”</p><p>Ian basically thudded next to Mickey, almost knocking the smaller man over. He had begun to pull out a cigarette and almost dropped it. “Christ, Ian.”</p><p>“Uh, I’m sorry.”</p><p>The two sat in silence, the only noise coming from Mickey’s inhaling and exhaling of smoke occasionally. He handed his pack to Ian after a few moments, who pulled his own cigarette out.</p><p>Finally, Mickey broke the silence. “You’re quiet today.”</p><p>“Uh, yeah sorry,” Ian shortly replied. He looked awkward, unsure what to say.</p><p>”Your fireman?” Mickey spoke carefully, not quite trying to hide his bitterness. Ian guessed someone filled Mickey in on Caleb. He hated how happy he got just by learning that. Like Mickey cared.</p><p>“He was just acting off. Tried to play it off casually, but I don’t know. Had dinner plans with his old high school girlfriend.”</p><p>“You know I don’t want to fucking talk about this with you, right?”</p><p>“Sorry, Mick.”</p><p>Suddenly he stubbed out the cigarette. “I can’t help that I’m not a fucking lifesaver like him, knocked up a hooker, got a kid attached to me for however long Svet stays around. I didn’t ask for this, it’s just Milkoviches aren’t meant to get out of the southside. I fucking cared about you though, loved you. Wanted to keep you safe,” he laughed bitterly before his hand slowly raised to brush against Ian’s cheek, causing a sharp gasp from the man. “That from me? Tossed yeah so I wouldn’t hurt ya but it still left a fucking mark. Maybe I am the southside scum you think I am.”</p><p>“Hey, no. That’s not why I left you. You don’t deserve to be trapped, babysitting me for life. I’m a burden.”</p><p>Mickey stood up. “Family isn’t a fucking burden, man. Anyway, trust those instincts. Even running to you I knew you were going to dump my ass.”</p><p>Before Ian could reply, Mickey walked back towards the car, jumped in, and drove off without even glancing back. He always managed to leave on the last word, with Ian thinking about everything he said. </p><p>Especially the ‘loved you’ in past tense, had Mickey moved on? He had no right to get upset, with a fucking boyfriend of his own, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t. He felt restless out of nowhere, not sure who caused it. He stood up and headed through the gate and down the sidewalk. Ian Gallagher had thought up a plan. </p><p>~~</p><p>An incoming phone call appeared on Mickey’s phone. He answered it, assuming it was Mandy. She’d been trying to appear not fucking dead a little harder than before. </p><p>“Yo, slut, what’s up?”</p><p>A growl followed. ”Heard from Jamie? Needed some muscle but he’s gone M.I.A.”</p><p>He threw his coat on the back of the couch, having just gotten home. “No. Hitched up with some girl. Already married her and everything.”</p><p>Mandy didn’t say anything at first, before asking seriously, “He knocked her up?”</p><p>He collapsed on the couch, after shrugging off his shoes. “Nah, surprisingly. Think he may actually be going straight for her. Moved out of the family house though.”</p><p>Mandy whistled. “Damn. Good for him though. Well fuck. Need your help then. Moving some furniture. Bought a new couch.”</p><p>Mickey looked down at the piss stained piece of shit couch below him. Maybe he could get her old one if he helped. Didn’t know how he was going to get it here though.</p><p>He groaned. “Fine, just busted my ass for Carl but I guess I can head over there sometime. What ya doing with the old one?”</p><p>“You can have it if you find a way to get it home.”</p><p>~~</p><p>Standing behind a food truck, Ian occasionally glanced around the side to spy on Caleb. He knew he should just trust him, but he already didn’t. They hadn’t been together long and already Ian had suspected foul play. He should just call it quits regardless, he felt neither were that dedicated to the relationship, but he was curious to know if he was right first. He held up a newspaper, trying to look casual as he leaned around the truck again.</p><p>Caleb just stood there, phone in hand. He was clearly reading a conversation, before he suddenly headed towards the L. Ian let him get a decent amount ahead, but still in sight, before he tossed the newspaper in the garbage and followed. A crowd had gathered, causing Ian to be shoved against bodies as he walked. He was peering through the gaps in the crowd, trying to track Caleb down. If he lost him now, he wouldn’t know what line to take and was more likely to get caught if Caleb spotted him first. He craned his neck to the side just in time to spot Caleb, when he bumped into a person next to him. He turned to apologize before wondering how shitty his luck must be.</p><p>“What the fuck are you doing here?” the voice said, enunciating the word fuck. Mickey stood next to him, because of course he did. </p><p>“Mick? Um, I’m, um. Fuck. I’m following Caleb. Think he’s cheating on me,” he nodded his head towards where Caleb was about to get on the L. “So I gotta go.”</p><p>He headed towards a different train car, before noticing Mickey was right behind him.</p><p>“I ain’t fucking following you but this was my ride first. Though I’m tempted to postpone my plans to see this shitshow. Sounds like you found yourself a real keeper, huh?”</p><p>Ian glanced into the car that held Caleb, making sure to turn where he couldn’t spot him. Mickey made zero effort to conceal himself but Caleb hadn’t ever seen a photo of the man from when Ian was still with him. </p><p>Mickey followed Ian’s line of vision. “So you got a type I can see. Him and me, practically twins,” Ian snorted out a laugh, causing Mickey to grin. “So what does it for Ian Gallagher then?<br/>
Because you went from that towelhead to me to even older fuckers to this guy.”</p><p>Ian laughed out loud, ducking slightly out of paranoia that Caleb heard him. “Honestly, you were always my type. Short, dark hair, blue eyes, and a bitchy bottom.”</p><p>Ian realized what he had said almost immediately, mouth slamming shut out of shock. Mickey grinned at the ‘bottom’ comment but didn’t reply. The pair sat in silence at the confession, until Mickey stated, “This is fucking stupid.”</p><p>“Yeah. Yeah it is.”</p><p>They both looked towards Caleb again. “Why didn’t you just fucking ask him?”</p><p>Ian groaned, “I didn’t want him to know I don’t trust him.”</p><p>“Yeah, but you don’t trust him.”</p><p>“Yeah, but I don’t want him to know I don’t trust him,” Ian frustratedly argued back. </p><p>The bus slowed to a stop, Caleb crowded towards the exit. Ian started to push his way towards their door. “All right, he’s gonna get off.”</p><p>Mickey kept following. “Well, I can’t miss this fucking mess now. Already wasted too much time on it.”</p><p>The two walked at a distance, reenacting their scene from before. Caleb turned suddenly causing Ian to duck behind a wall. His eyes passed over Mickey without any recognition before he spotted his exit. He bounced down the stairs as Ian started to head towards the direction until Mickey yanked on his arm, ledding him to a big glass window which overlooked where Caleb’s exit opened up to. Ian immediately spotted Caleb. A girl walked towards him and the pair hugged. Embarrassment flowed over Ian’s face.</p><p>Mickey looked at Ian watching the scene. “Alright, crisis avert. Ian Gallagher is a paranoid boyfriend, who would have fucking thought. See ya later.”</p><p>He began to walk away, before his wrist was snatched by Ian, causing him to stumble. “No, no, no, no, hold on.”</p><p>The two watched as Caleb spun the girl around and pressed her into the wall, attacking her mouth. He grabbed her leg and hitched it up, while still aggressively kissing her.</p><p>Ian’s mouth dropped open while Mickey’s face turned red with anger. </p><p>~</p><p>He flew down the stairs, determined to knock the lights out of the fucking cheater. Yeah he wasn’t with Ian anymore, but he sure as fuck wasn’t going to sit back while the lucky bitch who called himself Ian’s boyfriend macked on some slut. </p><p>“Mickey, wait the fuck up!”</p><p>Ian tore down the steps after Mickey, grabbed him, and slammed him into the wall. Mickey clawed at his arms, trying to get loose. “Let me the fuck go, Gallagher!” he continued violently squirming. “Gonna kick his cheating ass!”</p><p>He managed to knock one of his arms off, and slide down the wall before practically crawling past Ian. He jumped up, full on sprinting towards the exit. Ian spun around, definitely not going to make it to the scene on time. Mickey turned around right before he made it to Caleb, seeing Ian burst out the doors. He grabbed the fucking asshole, pulling him off the girl.</p><p>Caleb looked shocked. “Yo whoa, what’s your problem?”</p><p>Mickey swung suddenly, clocking him in the face. “My problem is you’re a lying piece of scum. You fucking cheat!”</p><p>The girl gasped loudly. “Is this Ian?”</p><p>Caleb winced, holding his jaw in his hands. “No, I don’t know who the fuck this is!”</p><p>About that time, Mickey felt Ian grab him and pull him back. “Mick, what the fuck!”</p><p>Caleb looked even more shocked. “Ian? What the hell are you doing here?”</p><p>Ian’s slight shock at Mickey’s actions transformed into anger when Caleb talked to him. “What the fuck are you doing here? With your high school girlfriend, who you clearly fuck?”</p><p>Caleb threw his hands up defensively. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What are you talking about? Whose this with you?”</p><p>“What do you mean ‘what am I talking about’,” Ian changed his voice to mock the guy, throwing his hands up in air quotes. “You were just making out with her!”</p><p>Caleb at least had the decency to look shocked. “Wait, are you here spying on me?”</p><p>Mickey leaned in Caleb’s face as Ian yelled. “Yeah, cause I knew you’d been cheating on me!”</p><p>Caleb stepped back. “Who the fuck is this? I’m not cheating on you!”</p><p>“God, he’s Mickey. This isn’t about him though! Did you or did you not fuck Denise?”</p><p>Denise leaned against the wall as she heard her name. </p><p>Ian heard the defense creep into Caleb’s voice. “Cheating would be if I sucked some guy’s cock, all right? So aren’t you the one cheating here with your ex. Right? Mickey’s your ex-boyfriend, Tony mentioned that.”</p><p>Mickey jumped into the conversation, tired of standing by. “Hey you, did you or did you not stick your dick inside of her?” </p><p>Caleb turned defensively to Mickey. “And you’re telling me you’ve never done that before?”</p><p>Mickey got in his face. “This isn’t about fucking me. I’m not the one dating Gallagher here. You stuck your dick into her vagina, that means you cheated on him.”</p><p>Ian pulled Mickey back, before butting in himself. “Since this is between us, no I haven’t! I’m gay!”</p><p>“So am I! Sticking my dick in a friend’s vagina doesn’t make me not gay. This is why I didn’t want to tell you. Because I didn’t want you freaking out the way you are right now!”</p><p>Mickey had enough, he was pretty sure anything else Caleb said was going to be stupid as fuck too. He grabbed onto Caleb and kneed him right in the dick as hard as he could. There, try sticking his dick in anyone else now, man or woman. Caleb collapsed to the ground and Mickey leaned down next to him. “Look I’m not sure what kind of shit story you’re trying to use to convince yourself that you’re the good guy, but hiding a little side piece from your boyfriend, your now ex-boyfriend, is fucking cheating.”</p><p>He knew he was being cocky. Ian might stay with him, but Mickey was going to make it nearly impossible for him to. If he got his ass dumped for giving a shit then Caleb was going to get his ass dumped for not giving a shit. Caleb groaned as Denise screamed. Mickey shoved Ian towards the L, determined to end the conversation. Caleb weakly weezed out, “Fine. Fuck you Ian Gallagher. You don’t get to accuse me of cheating when your fucking ex is here with you.”</p><p>Mickey kicked him for good measure, before spotting some cops. He shoved Ian harder, grabbing his arm as he pulled up the stairs towards the L. They hadn’t yet spotted the end results of the brawl but Mickey knew he needed to get them in a packed train before that happened. He dragged the two of them into the loading platform, waiting for the doors to open, while he glanced out the window they first spied on Caleb through. He saw two cops speaking towards Ian’s ex-boyfriend. Mickey smirked, it felt good to think of him as that. He was pretty sure Ian wasn’t enough into the guy to stay with him after that weird confession anyway. Sure, Mickey had stuck his dick in his fair share of girls, even once Ian had ran off like he could tiptoe back into the closet, but he at least knew that didn’t make sleeping with girls not cheating just because he was gay. Where the fuck did Ian find in such an idiot?</p><p>The train doors opened and Mickey shoved Ian through them. He hadn’t said anything the whole time, almost as if he was in shock. Once the doors shut and the train pulled away, Ian started laughing, hard. Passengers around turned to stare at him, giving him looks. Mickey glared at them until they went back to minding their own fucking business.</p><p>He put his hand on the back of Ian’s neck, forcing him to look at him. “Hey, man, you okay?” </p><p>He laughed harder, “I can’t believe I dated someone so stupid. He really thought I had no reason to be upset!”</p><p>“Calm the fuck down, everyone around us thinks you’ve lost your mind.” Ian quieted down, finally glancing around to see a train full of people staring. He still had a dopey grin plastered on his face though. The two sat in silence as the rest of the train passengers moved back to focus on themselves again, many staring at their phones.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. A Yurt of One's Own</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Slept here last night?” Ian asked, as he walked into the kitchen to see Fiona sitting at the counter. Since she had been dating Sean, she’d been at the Gallagher home less frequently. He didn’t blame her though, he’d stayed at Caleb’s a few nights himself. Though, that was over since he caught him cheating. He did feel torn, but it just wasn’t over Caleb. He couldn’t imagine going back anyway, not after seeing the look on Mickey’s face. </p><p>Fiona sighed. “Yeah.” He grabbed a box of cereal, watching her scribble intensely on some paper. “What are you writing?”</p><p>She continued without looking up. “A letter to Sean’s ex-wife.”</p><p>He poured his breakfast while asking. “How come?”</p><p>She looked up suddenly, eyes practically bloodshot. “Ask Carl.”</p><p>Carl, who had just sat down at the dining room table, paused his attempt at opening the milk jug.</p><p>Ian walked towards Carl.  “Carl, why is Fiona writing a letter to Sean’s ex wife?”</p><p>“I don’t want to talk about it.”</p><p>He paused. “Okay great, I’ll stand here and drink my coffee in silence.” The moment however was ruined by Debbie stomping down the stairs before dramatically smashing her suitcase against the ground.</p><p>Fiona, once again, looked away from her letter to question Debbie. “Where are you going?”</p><p>She rushed around the room, grabbing her stuff. “The commune with Queenie.”</p><p>“Except you’re not ‘cause you have school, remember?” Fiona spun around in her chair at the counter to follow Debbie’s movements. </p><p>She wrapped her scarf around her neck after putting her hat on. “I need a supportive environment. Not gonna get it here.” </p><p>Fiona stood up, obviously annoyed with Debbie, “So that’s it for high school, huh? Pregnant. Dropout at fifteen. Well played.”</p><p>When this all began, Ian was definitely on Team Debbie. He still thought she should get to pick if she had or kept her kid. He didn’t agree with her dropping out though, knowing how hard it was on both him and Fiona to get their GEDs. </p><p>Debbie practically growled. “Don’t pretend you care.”</p><p>He had enough, finally chiming in. “You gotta graduate, Debs.”</p><p>She stared him down. “Have you heard of ‘unschooling’? It’s a widely recognized form of education.”</p><p>“By who?” Disbelief dropped from his voice. He swore she got more ridiculous and dramatic with age. </p><p>“Queenie says it’s how you get knowledge from life instead of books,” she walked past him, heading for the front door. “Like making spaghetti. Where you measure water, pasta, salt. That’s math.”</p><p>Both Fiona and Ian followed her, carrying their cups of coffee. Fiona replied, “No, that’s pathetic.”</p><p>Queenie and Chuckie appeared on the stairs suddenly. Chuckie went down first as Queenie followed, attempting to tidy up his clothes. </p><p>“If I’m desperate I can just get my G.E.D. You know, like you both did.”</p><p>Fiona turned to Frank’s old new love as she threw her jacket on. “Queenie, are you going to support Debbie as she unschools her way through life?”</p><p>Venom filled Debbie’s reply. “Ignore her.”</p><p>Queenie replied anyway because she was Queenie. “Well, I have so many friends on the commune who have never had a day of conventional education, and they have so much worldly wisdom.”</p><p>“Like boiling pasta,” he couldn’t help himself as he replied sarcastically, looking straight at Debbie. </p><p>Fiona also turned to stare her down. “You want to quit school, Debs, I can't stop you. Enjoy yourself at… what is it?”</p><p>“Soaring Consciousness Ecovillage. A hundred acres. Very peaceful,” she bent down to pick her bags up, before standing up to address Fiona. “Oh! And if you see Lip, tell him never to stifle his passion. Ta ta!”</p><p>Both siblings looked confused and surprised. Ian was going to have to ask Lip what the hell Queenie meant later. Fiona huffed out a breath. “Well, that was a shit shown. Think she’ll go through with it?”</p><p>“Yeah, for a week tops.”</p><p>Fiona turned towards the couch before dramatically throwing herself down on it. “I don’t know. Probably, but Debbie’s headstrong.” </p><p>~~</p><p>Mickey’s mood was great for once. He’d gotten to pound on Ian’s now ex-boyfriend and he felt satisfied with life. He wasn’t sure if that meant anything for the two of them, but it felt fucking great anyway. He strolled down the sidewalk, whistling as he headed for the Alibi. Douchebag thought fucking a girl wasn’t cheating. Mickey was still in disbelief over the guy’s reasoning.</p><p> After he left, he swung by Mandy’s and moved her couch. He knew her address was on the northside but he was shocked by how swanky her place looked. He felt bad, remembering the state of her room growing up. Terry had really brought her down, just like he did everyone. He wasn’t one to pry, but he did wonder to himself what job she had gotten that helped her afford this. She never offered up an explanation on her own though, so he didn’t push. That was basically the dynamic of their relationship.</p><p>After he finished being bossed around over a damn couch, he managed to get her old one moved to the Milkovich house by borrowing both Kev and his truck to finish the task once he had gotten off work that night. Kev was pretty sure the pair of them were best friends so he’d do anything he was asked, and Mickey just stopped arguing about it. Let him think whatever the fuck he wanted. He didn’t care if he got a free beer occasionally out of it too.</p><p>He pushed open the door, spotting Svetlana talking with a man in a booth. Probably someone from Public Restroom. That or a guy looking to pay for a fuck, he didn’t really care either way about who it was. </p><p>He jumped up on a stool in front of Kev and V who were huddled together. Once V noticed him she walked to his side of the bar. She grabbed him as he protested. “What the fuck are you doing?”</p><p>He was dragged to the back storage, protesting the whole way before being shoved in the small room and the door shut when V finally spoke. “Kev fucked up. Told that guy that Svet’s an illegal immigrant. He’s an immigrant officer.”</p><p>Oh shit, Mickey thought. Svetlana and him weren’t best friends by any means or anything,  but they’d been through a lot together. He had hated her at one point, but grew to understand and almost admired her ruthless and parasitic way of surviving. She did what she had to, and he respected that. Besides, if she did get deported he’d be saddled down with Yev full time and he wasn’t about that. </p><p>“Oh goddamn it, what do I do?”</p><p>V leaned down into his face. “You be a dotting fucking husband is what.” </p><p>~~</p><p>Ian waited outside of one of the many school buildings, bored out of his mind. People watching definitely could be interesting on a college campus, he’d already seen one guy throw up from either a hangover or nerves and even a mass mob of people freezing for a solid minute. Ian didn’t have any fucking clue what that was about but he kept still to avoid attention, except for his darting eyes. Lip probably fit in perfectly, at least maybe with the hungover kid. He was going to kick his ass if he didn’t hurry though. After the third girl to hit on him strolled away, he finally spotted Lip exiting the building.</p><p>“Yo,” he called out. He followed Lip, who didn’t stop walking. “Where were you? I’m starving.”</p><p>Lip paused to push his backpack up his shoulders. “What time is it?” </p><p>Ian pulled his phone out, flashing the time at Lip. He was thirty minutes late. </p><p>“Shit, I’m sorry, man.” </p><p>“Hey, what’s going on tonight? Uh, not used to all this extra time on my hand,” Caleb and him were officially over and Ian’s time was dedicated to studying, but he could only handle being alone with a booklet and his thoughts for so long.</p><p>The two walked side by side. “I’m working the sorority. Run the bar for the party, you should come.”</p><p>Sarcasm filled his voice. “Oh I love a sorority.”</p><p>“There are some girls that look like dudes. Ever experimented with a girl?”</p><p>Ian grimaced as he recalled Caleb wrapped around his high school sweetheart. “Pass.”</p><p>“It’s Mardi Gras themed. There’s gonna be costumes and shit,” Lip replied.</p><p>“Oh,” Ian said unenthusiastically. </p><p>Lip slapped Ian on the shoulder, chuckling. “We’ll make it fun.”</p><p>He pulled out an open beer once he spotted a garbage can, downing the last of the contents as Ian watched, confirming his earlier thoughts about where Lip fit in exactly. “Hair of the dog?”</p><p>“You read sixty-three shitty student papers on nuclear fission. You’ll need something to dull the pain.”</p><p>He tossed the empty can in. Ian noticed his drinking was becoming more frequent, which was saying a lot since Lip was Frank’s biological son. It was probably just college stress though, right? </p><p>~~</p><p>“When is my birthday?”</p><p>Flash cards sat between the two of them while their son played around their feet. Yevgeny threw trucks against each other, babbling in broken toddler speak. One landed close to Mickey, followed by Yevgeny who kicked a ball out of the way to get to it but lost his balance. He toppled onto Mickey’s leg, causing him to grunt. “Careful, kiddo.”</p><p>He didn’t seem to notice, probably used to his father’s moodiness. He picked up the ball and threw it in the opposite direction before waddling away to grab it. Mickey was almost amazed how quickly he’d get distracted by a new toy. His siblings all shared what few toys his mom managed to steal from the store for them, making them all little greedy bastards about their prized plastic junk. </p><p>Svetlana repeated. “When is my birthday?”</p><p>“Fuck, can’t imagine you having a birthday like a normal human. Thought you crawled your way out of hell one day specifically aimed to torment me,” Mickey grunted at her, watching Svetlana’s face transform with annoyance. </p><p>She smacked him on the leg with a handful of cards, before angrily muttering. “Nepravil’no. I was born November 12th. Winter baby. My mother pour cold water over me to boost immune system. Russian tradition.”</p><p>“Speak fucking English. They won’t let your ass stay in this country if you don’t,” he paused. “How come you never did that shit to Yev?”</p><p>Yevgeny turned his head to look at Mickey upon hearing his name. Svetlana replied, “I did. You were busy with carrot boy, did not come home ever to see son.”</p><p>Oh. He had missed a lot, especially from Yev’s first few months. He had wanted to miss more at first, and tried, only to be  forced to stick around Yev by Svetlana’s threats. Lately he had a pit of guilt settle in his stomach when he thought about the fact he hadn’t even seen Yev until his christening. Only held him for one fucking second to show him off to Terry, shortly before the man had tried to kill him for being gay. </p><p>He didn’t want to dwell on it though. “Okay. November 12th. Got it. Next question.”</p><p>Svetlana groaned in frustration. “You must meet immigrant officer for next two years and pass as good, not shit husband.”</p><p>He threw his arm out towards Yev. “The kid alone gets us fuckin’ brownie points. Not too many people raise crotch goblins together as part of a clever disguise.”</p><p>Svetlana puckered her lips, scanning the room before deciding. “We frame wedding photo. Wedding surrounded by family is good sign,” she motioned towards their bedrooms. “We need to share bed.”</p><p>Mickey immediately cut her off. “I’m not fucking sleeping with you, I draw the line there.”</p><p>Yev yawned, rubbing his eyes. He reached out for one of his parents. Svetlana leaned down, picking him up and laying him on the couch. She ran her hand through his blonde hair before replying softly, “Husbands and wives do not have separate rooms. We do not need to fuck, just look as if we do. Move our stuff into same room. For appearance.”</p><p>“Fine, but I’m sleeping on the couch or a spare bed. What’s the next fucking question?” </p><p>“Where was I born?”</p><p>“Russia.”</p><p>She shot him a look, clearly looking for more info. How was he supposed to fucking know that? He hoped Yevgeny alone would make the two of them passable husband and wife. If not, they needed a fucking miracle. </p><p>~~</p><p>The music was beating around him, when he felt his phone vibrate. Lip had managed to convince him to stay for the sorority party, telling him he wanted him to experience the college party life after his breakup. He knew Lip could tell he wasn’t very sad, but he thought his brother probably just wanted an excuse to have someone to join in with him at some crazy house party. Plus, he seemed to find some weird pleasure in introducing Ian, letting the girls hang off on him, and then casually mentioning how he was gay and therefore crushing their fantasies. He would always swoop in like a knight after that. He knew he was basically an elaborate scheme to pull girls. </p><p>He reached around in his pocket before he pulled out his phone, swiping to answer, “Yeah, who is this?”</p><p>A hoarse and aggressive voice answered, “Mandy.”</p><p>He hadn’t heard from Mandy since she left. Ian had been too in the middle of a breakdown that he hadn’t made enough of an effort to convince Mandy she was better off without Kenyatta. He regretted it once he had gotten stable with meds, but by then she had been gone for months. He had managed to lose both his Milkoviches in the matter of days. </p><p>He had his fingers plugged into his ear to better hear the phone over the noise. He spoke breathlessly, “Hey, hi.”</p><p>“Where are you? I can’t get a hold of Mick.”</p><p>Confusion settled in. Why would she call him over Mickey? Did she not know? “Uh, I’m at a party with Lip.”</p><p>Her voice filled with panic, “Don’t tell him it’s me. Tell him it’s someone else, okay?” </p><p>He shoved the phone closer to his head to hear better, “What’s going on?”</p><p>On top of the panic, her voice was full of terror, an emotion he surprisingly hadn’t heard from her before despite their past, “I didn’t know who else to call, but I can’t get into it on the phone. Can you come here?</p><p>“Wha-now? When did you leave Indiana? Wh-where are you?”</p><p>She was confused, “Did Mickey not tell you I was in Chicago? Never mind, uh, I’ll explain later. I’m at M-McCormick Park Hotel. Uh Water Street and Columbus. Room two-eighteen. And try not to talk to the front desk if you can help it.”</p><p>He kept circling around, trying to find a spot where the music didn’t reach as loudly, “Why not?”</p><p>“Just come now and don’t tell Lip.”</p><p>“Wait, Mandy,” the line went dead. He had so many questions and no answers. When did Mandy get back? Regret creeped back into his stomach. He knew he would have known that if things hadn’t gone so wrong.</p><p>He headed back to the table Lip was serving drinks from, “Hey, uh. I’m going to split. “</p><p>Lip continued to pass out alcohol, but his attention focused on Ian, “What, wait. You’re leaving?”</p><p>He panicked, needing an excuse before blurting out, “Yeah, I’m going to go meet Mickey.” </p><p>Lip grinned, clearly thinking he had caught Ian, “Already heading back for the Milkovich dick?”</p><p>Ian flipped him off, “Purely platonic.”</p><p>“All right man, use a condom,” his grin grew bigger as he poured a drink for another girl.</p><p>He rushed out of there, only pausing to send Mickey a quick text, with the address saying to meet him.</p><p>~~</p><p>Mickey’s phone had interrupted the quizzing with a beep. He’d previously ignored the phone, trying to focus on these damn flash cards. He’d learned more about Svetlana the last few fucking hours than he’d learned the last few years. He kept ignoring the phone, until he saw the flash of Ian’s name. He grabbed the phone quickly to see a message that contained an address, an ‘SOS’, and no other information. </p><p>He immediately jumped up, almost knocking over Yev who had curled up next to him, causing Svetlana to scowl. “Careful with Yevgeny!” He hesitated, making a decent effort to situate a sleeping Yev on the new sofa, before rushing towards the door. He wasn’t that much of a dick that he’d knock his own kid off the couch and not do anything about it. </p><p>Svetlana raised her voice. “What now? We practice still! Is very important.”</p><p>He reached the door before yelling back to Svetlana, “Emergency. Gotta meet Ian.”</p><p>The door slammed behind him, but not before he heard angry Russian muttering behind him. He only caught the few English words, “Stupid orange boy.”</p><p>He called a cab, knowing the L would take about an hour and he wasn’t willing to wait that long. He was antsy waiting, deciding to continue walking while waiting for the taxi. The driver almost passed him but he waved his hands out and yelled, “Hey, fucking right here!”</p><p>The cab came to a screeching stop. He almost yanked the handle off wrecking the door open before climbing in. He repeated the address and immediately sat back. With the sudden freetime his mind started racing. What was wrong and why was Ian at a hotel?</p><p>He wondered if he had tried scamming someone, thinking back to their short lived hotel scam days where Ian would convince old geriatric fucks to meet him before Mickey would beat them up and rob them.</p><p>The cab driver attempted to distract him with small talk, but Mickey frankly didn’t give a fuck about it. He grunted replied with one word answers until the man gave up. He checked his phone for anything from Ian only to receive more disappointment. Mandy had called instead, but he couldn’t imagine trying to carry on a normal conversation with her through the panic.</p><p>Finally after what felt like hours, but was probably closer to around twenty minutes, the cab pulled up to a curb. Mickey practically dove out of the car, throwing cash back at the man. It was more than enough to cover the fair. He pushed open the main doors, immediately scanning the room for Ian. He was going to fucking kill him for not giving him more information or actually being here. He pulled out his phone to send Ian a message that said, ‘Where the fuck are you, Gallagher?!’ before closing his phone.</p><p>The lobby contained the front desk, where a woman with big glasses was seated behind, and a group of grey couches that looked both fancy and incredibly stiff. Mickey elected to sit, avoiding the woman who was staring him down. Yep, he thought, the couch barely moved as he tossed himself against the seat due to how fucking stiff the material was. He fidgeted in his seat, checking his phone occasionally, mind racing over the possibilities that brought him here. </p><p>After another endless ten minutes, he spotted bright red hair through the glass front window panels before seeing Ian walk in. He appeared fine upon sight, but Mickey couldn’t help rushing up to him before scanning him down. “What the fuck man. You send a vague ass text before going silent and show up completely fucking fine. What the hell is up.”</p><p>Ian looked around, grabbing Mickey’s arm as he dragged him towards the elevators. “You never told me Mandy was back.”</p><p>Ian punched the up button. Mickey hesitated before his teeth pulled back into a snarl. “Didn’t realize you all were still BFFs after you cut off the rest of us.”</p><p>The elevator dinged before the door opened. Thankfully nobody was in it because Ian pulled Mickey inside and shoved him against the wall before leaning in his face towards his. “Look, you don’t want this. I’m a burd-“</p><p>Mickey shoved Ian back hard. “You don’t get to decide what I fucking want, okay? Not now, not before. I get you fucking dumped me, I get you’re struggling with your diagnosis,” Ian went to shrug off Mickey only to be pushed back again. “That’s no excuse to ice out fucking family, man. So don’t get on my ass about me not telling you about Mandy when you left me and cut the rest of my family off too.”</p><p>Mickey was breathing hard, suddenly fired up over his confession. Ian looked him dead in the eyes, not having much of a choice as he was trapped between a wall and the shorter boy. The two suddenly realized how close they were to each other. Mickey’s eyes darted to Ian’s lips first. Fuck, he missed being able to kiss those lips. He could feel the puffs of air coming from Ian breathing deeply at the same realization .He was so close, he could just lean forward a second. He looked up to study Ian’s face. Ian’s eyes met his before his gaze moved down to Mickey’s lips too. Mickey leaned forward.</p><p>Ding! The elevator doors opened and both of them jumped back. </p><p>Mickey rushed out of the elevator, face reddening as he thought back on the moment. What the fuck, Ian had seemed equally as affected by the closeness. He continued to nearly run down the hallway when Ian grabbed him by the shoulder as he almost passed the door he needed to be at. </p><p>He realized then he had no idea where he was going now that he was at the hotel. Ian’s text had only contained the address. Ian knocked on the door, leaning his face against it to whisper, “Mandy!”</p><p>The pair heard a frantic, “Who is it?” </p><p>“It’s us. Ian and Mickey.”</p><p>The door suddenly opened, Mandy peeking around it. She murmured aggressively, “Come in, quick!”</p><p>They walked in briskly, nearly shoulder to shoulder. Mickey spoke first. “The fuck’s going on?”</p><p>Ian turned around, taking a more calm approach. “Hey, you all right?”</p><p>Mandy shut the door before following. “Well, I did some crank. Don’t ask me why ‘cause I fucking hate that shit. Couldn’t get a hold of any of the family before you answered.” </p><p>~</p><p>Ian looked at Mandy. She was clearly freaked out, but was it just the fucking watered down meth? He pushed for more information. “Is that why you called?”</p><p>She ran her hand across her forehead, before looking at Ian with a bitchy judgemental look he knew so well. “Cause I did crank?”</p><p>“Well?”</p><p>Mickey cut in. “She’s a goddamn Milkovich. No, she didn’t call ‘cause she’s paranoid on drugs.”</p><p>Ian threw his hands up, repeating, “Well? Then what is it?”</p><p>She pointed behind her, towards the bathroom. “No, that,” she headed towards the door. “That’s why.”</p><p>Ian walked past Mandy, followed by Mickey. He opened the door to the sight of a man in his underwear, blood surrounding his face. “Oh, shit!”</p><p>Mickey peeked into the room. “The hell, Mandy! Who is he?”</p><p>She leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “He said his name’s Andy, who knows? The old bastard just up and died on me.”</p><p>Ian snapped out of his short lived shock before rushing to check the man’s pulse. His knowledge for situations like this were already more impressive thanks to his EMT training. </p><p>Mandy watched before saying, “Don’t worry about him, he’s dead.”</p><p>He confirmed that, as the man had no pulse at all. Mickey turned towards her, mouth open in shock. “What the fuck happened?”</p><p>She looked down at her dress, where a red bloodstain stood out against the gold. Ian repeated Mickey’s question. “What happened, Mandy?”</p><p>She groaned frantically. “I’ve got blood on this dress, I’ve worn this like, twice!”</p><p>She walked off, still clearly affected by the drugs in her system. Ian stood up, knocking into Mickey’s shoulders as he rushed towards her. “‘Mandy!”</p><p>She stopped, running a shaky hand through her hair. “I met him through my service.”</p><p>“What service?”</p><p>~</p><p>Mickey knew what she was going to say before she said it. She hesitated before turning around to look at the two of them as she admitted. “Escort.”</p><p>Mandy and him weren’t the closest but that didn’t stop him from noticing her over the years. She had a reputation for sleeping around. He had beaten up plenty of guys over the years for calling her a whore or worst. Hell, he’d almost killed Ian for the same thing once.</p><p>A girl raised in their household just didn't survive with a high self esteem. He had watched her throw herself at Lip and Kenyatta only to have her heart smashed. Fuck, Kenyatta hadn’t just figuratively hurt her, remembering the first time he had seen her face all bloody when he shoved open the bathroom door. He’d gotten into it with Kenyatta over that, but she hadn’t left him, so it didn’t make much of a difference. This was just another new situation in the list of a beaten girl with low self esteem. He ran his hand through his hair. “Fuck, Mandy. Why didn’t you tell me? I could have given you money or something. You didn’t need to fucking sell yourself.”</p><p>She laughed, voice wobbling. She took a step forward, leg shaking as she tried to keep it together. “Fuck you. It’s not selling myself. It’s a job, I like it. I left Kenyatta and I wanted to reclaim my goddamn right to feel pretty and important. Not everyone gets to find their Mr. Right. Some of us aren’t meant for that kind of ending.”</p><p>Mickey stiffened while Ian fidgeted. Had neither of them mentioned to Mandy that they had fucking broken up? The silence stretched out before Mandy angrily barked, “What?”</p><p>Ian glanced at him, while he stared back before he replied, voice full of spite, “Fuck. We’re not dating, Mandy. We broke up a while ago. Right after you left. I thought someone would fucking mentioned it but clearly not.”</p><p>He glared at Ian. He dumped him, he should have delivered the news himself. Ian looked down guilty. Mandy’s mouth dropped open, she still looked shaky and pissed, but less so with the new distraction. “Wait, what. Why the hell are you both here together then?”</p><p>Ian shrugged. “I don’t know. You called. Mentioned Mick so I texted him!”</p><p>Mickey was frustrated, he didn’t want to keep talking about their fucking split. He chimed in, “Can we cut the chit chat and do something about the goddamn body in the bathroom?”</p><p>~</p><p>Twenty minutes later, Mickey had broken into a supply closet in the hotel and found supplies for when one of the rooms needed some small repairs. Amongst the paint, was a plastic tarp. Ian had waited with Mandy to calm her nerves. </p><p>The two were closer anyway and Ian’s whole being could calm a person when he put on the charm. When he came back to room two-eighteen, the three had spread out the plastic in the living room. Mickey and Ian had pulled on some gloves also stolen from the closet before they picked up the man and carefully walked him into the main room before tossing him on the plastic. </p><p>They both tossed the gloves aside and rolled him up only touching the plastic. Neither had ever murdered a man but they grew up southside and knew better than to get their handprints everywhere, even more so than Ian had before. The three lined up to roll the man up on the tarp as Ian counted up to three. On three they flipped him one more time. </p><p>“Okay, good just one more.”</p><p>Mandy breathed hard, leaning back. “Just give me a second.” </p><p>Mickey knew the work wasn’t actually hard but after a night like Mandy’s, she was reasonably out of breath. She leaned against the edge of the bed.</p><p>Ian sat back, pulling his knees to his chest. Mickey stood up and pulled out a cigarette before opening the sliding window to light up. Snow fell from the sky, causing him to shiver. He was still close enough to be involved in the conversation, but he really just needed something to settle his mood. He looked back at the dead guy, thinking of all the runs with Terry that ended similarly for others. </p><p>Ian broke the short lived silence. “I forgot you dyed your hair.”</p><p>She breathed deeply. “Yeah, first time it was too light. So, I had the stylist darken it. I got some highlights. More natural this way.”</p><p>Mickey exhaled. “Looks like mom’s did. Like a real blonde or something,” he looked at Ian, knowing he didn’t know much about their long gone mom who died when he was first hooking up with Ian. “Colin and Iggy got her hair. Blonde bitches. Mandy and I got the dark Milkovich hair from Terry.”</p><p>Ian smiled softly. “Yev’s got that light blonde hair too.”</p><p>Hurt crossed Ian’s face. Mickey hadn’t been sure how he’d felt about practically raising the kid before completely abandoning him, but in this moment it was obvious it hurt him. In the beginning, Mickey hated him for letting Yevgeny get so attached and just fucking disappearing on the kid. Clearly, Ian hadn’t wanted to though. Mickey decided to calm his nerves, even if another part of him  almost wanted to snap at him out of anger. “Kid missed you, you know? Better dad than I ever was.”</p><p> </p><p>Mandy watched the interaction before suddenly sitting up, indicating she was ready to continue. The moment ended and Mickey was confident she had done that on purpose. He wasn’t sure if he should thank her or not. Ian and Mandy started to roll the body again, while Mickey finished his cigarette, knowing they didn’t technically need him. Ian suddenly exclaimed, “Wait, wait, wait, wait. Aren’t there security cameras in hotel hallways?”</p><p>Mandy replied, “We can cover our faces?”</p><p>Mickey considered this. It was the same answer he’d jump to. Ian apparently had another counter to that though. “They’ll know we came out of this room.”</p><p>Mickey exhaled, “Well, what the fuck you think we should do, Gallagher?”</p><p>Both looked up at him, before Mickey realized that he had drawn their attention to the window. Not him. </p><p>The voice of reason resumed, sounding an awful fucking lot like Ian. “We are not pushing him out a window.”</p><p>Mickey looked outside. The snow could cause a problem, obviously reflecting any blood that got on it, but what else did they have to work with? He thought back to the fact that both Carl and Kev had come to him over dead bodies and he did nothing, but here he was prepared to throw a dead body out a window all because Ian Gallagher asked him to show up. He was still fucking whipped. He turned back towards Ian, raising his eyebrow. “Why the hell not? It’s only the second floor.”</p><p>He looked out the window before adding on. “Not even concrete. Just fucking grass under all that snow.”</p><p>~</p><p>Mandy grabbed at the body, looking at both the men. “Come on, give me a hand!” </p><p>She hadn’t known they broke up, being shocked when they broke the news. If Ian and Mickey couldn’t make it after all they had been through, then what was the point? True love was clearly dead. She wasn’t even sure what true love could feel like, just pining all her hope on having a bond like her best friend and brother had. In the past she would have easily declared she was in love with Lip, and while that pain was still fresh in some ways, she knew now that wasn’t love. Love doesn’t ask the other to sacrifice so much. People in love just do. </p><p>Mickey stubbed out his cigarette, before reaching down to grab the other side of the dead man. “Window doesn’t even open all the way. Want me to grab a hammer for the closet too?”</p><p>Ian watched the two. “They rigg it like that so no one will fall out.”</p><p>She huffed, she had forgotten how morally structured Ian was. It was nice when they were teenagers, when she had only been surrounded by her destructive fucked up father, siblings who were equally as fucked up as she was, and boys who only wanted her for her body. He had been a refreshing taste of what she thought was good in the world. Still, that didn’t help now.</p><p>Mickey, tossed the man carelessly down when Mandy sat down. He was clearly trying to brainstorm more Milkovich style answers from the raised eyebrow look she knew so well. “We could chop him up and toss him out in little pieces?”</p><p>“I can call the rest of my brothers or cousins?” she reached for her phone, knowing full well she looked frantic as she crawled across the floor.</p><p>Ian leaned down to look at her. “Mandy. Mandy, hey stop,” the two stared at each other. “We gotta call 9-1-1.” </p><p>“Hell no, Gallagher. They’ll arrest her ass for selling her ass!” Mickey protested. Neither Milkovich trusted the cops, they were raised knowing the cops expected the worst out of them. It was a trait they normally shared with the Gallagers.</p><p>Ian looked at Mickey, hand still leaning out as if to steady her. “We won’t tell them she’s an escort,” he turned back to Mandy. “You’ll say that you met the guy at a bar, that you brought him back to your room. Your room you’re staying at to visit your brother from out of town. That you had rough sex, and the paramedics will get here, they’ll check him out, they’ll see he died of a stroke, and they’ll call it in.”</p><p>She breathed hard. She felt restless. She knew her pupils were huge right now. She had been crying on and off since it had happened. Since Andy has died. Sweat was covering her body, she didn’t want to get the police involved now. She didn’t trust them not to throw her away in jail, destroying the life she had built since leaving Kenyatta. Ian tried to calm her down as she shook from everything that had happened. “Say you panicked and called your brother first, since it freaked you out. We came and found you in shock.”</p><p>What surprised her the most the whole night was suddenly seeing her brother lean down, resting his hand against her shoulder. “Hey, I think you should listen to Gallagher. When you call the cops I’ll send Tony a text about it too. It’ll be alright, I won’t let them blame you, even if I gotta take the fucking fall for it.” </p><p>She’d spent years thinking Mickey wasn’t much more than a violent kid, most likely going to end up like any other Milkovich male. In jail, or even dead from drugs or violence. Her opinion of him shifted dramatically once Ian was involved, exposing a more emotional and hurt kid. Just like her. He’d proven over the years that he was willing to risk himself to protect Mandy. He had gotten wailed on by Terry and even a Kenyatta in the past, defending her.</p><p>She watched her brother, softer because of Ian, before agreeing. </p><p>~~</p><p>Fiona walked up the creaky wooden stairs to Sean’s apartment, spotting the man smoking a cigarette on one of the two chairs outside his door. She approached him, bundled up in a jacket she grabbed when she headed out. She was pretty sure it might actually be Ian’s but it was warm and he wasn’t home. </p><p>“Hi,” she cautiously approached him. </p><p>He looked up. “Didn’t know you were coming.”</p><p>She walked towards the edge of the porch, fidgeting. Carl’s new found gangster way was something she hadn’t been able to find a solution for in time and had landed them both in deep shit with Sean when Will had gotten ahold of an illegal gun Carl had hidden. What shitty luck, she thought. She had forced him to tell her where all the guns were in the house. She’d handed them over to V to give to the Milkoviches, knowing they could either deposit them better than she could or at least just keep away from her siblings. One had slipped through the cracks though, ending up in Will’s possession.</p><p>She felt so much remorse over it, and everything else falling apart around her. She used to be the protector, perfect at her job where her parents had failed them for so long. Nowadays she couldn’t do anything right, getting so involved in her own problems she forgot to check on her siblings. Hence the current situation, and the situation with Gus; her husband that she was separated from. </p><p>She softly whispered to Sean after the brief trip down memory lane. “I don’t have to stay.”</p><p>“I was about to head out to a meeting,” he replied as he avoided eye contact. The air felt tense. </p><p>“It’s just that you weren’t responding to my texts, and I’m kinda building it up in my head.” </p><p>He breathed out, before admitting, “I was on the phone with Nikole.”</p><p>She knew her face reflected the hurt and sorrow she observed in Sean at that moment. Having to call Will’s mother and his ex to explain what happened couldn’t have been easy. He looked so beaten down that she couldn’t imagine that conversation went well. She slowly walked towards him before sitting down in the chair next to him and angling herself toward him. She felt ashamed to have to ask, “How did that go?”</p><p>He met her eyes. “She flipped. Threatened to challenge custody.”</p><p>She was hitting herself internally. If she was him, she’d have left him on that note. Nothing was more important than her siblings, no matter how often she felt she let them down. She knew Sean felt the exact same with Will, knowing he was responsible for failing his son in the past because of the drug problem he had developed. The two connected on that note, but the same connection threatened to tear them apart. </p><p>“Is there anything I can do?”</p><p>He took another deep breath, letting out a fake chuckle. “I’ll let you know.”</p><p>The conversation felt over. She didn’t want to push Sean about it anymore, wanting to give him room to breathe. Fiona attempted to change the topic, letting Sean work out his emotions over Will and Nikole. “Gus came into Patsy’s. He wants a divorce,” she paused, knowing how strange it was to bring up her short lived relationship with her still legal husband that she married on their first date to her current boyfriend. “And his engagement ring. Which now has a price tag of six grand at the pawn shops so I’m screwed.”</p><p>Sean raised his cigarette to his lips, not looking at Fiona. She pushed on, staring off into the distance not wanting to meet his eyes. “He called and basically accused me of stealing-“</p><p>Sean stood up abruptly, cutting her off. “Sorry, I-If I’m going to make that meeting, I gotta go.”</p><p>Defensiveness appeared in her voice, stating a fact. “So, we’re not going to talk.”</p><p>“There’s something in NA, ‘pause when agitated.’ I’m agitated so I’m pausing.”</p><p>She could feel the tears fill her eyes as she looked up at him. “Meaning?”</p><p>He sighed. “We can talk but it won’t be doing either of us any favors.”</p><p>He turned around and walked into his apartment, closing the door behind him. Fiona sat on the porch, tears spilling down her face. She didn’t want him to see this, she wasn’t sure he’d do anything about it anyway. Not with the ‘pause while agitated’ mentality he had going on. She couldn’t blame him exactly, knowing it was a strategy to avoid a relapse. She stood up, rubbing her sleeved arm across her eyes to soak up the tears.</p><p>She walked down the porch and down a couple of streets before she pulled out her phone to call V. After Sean and her conversation she felt almost wrong for wanting to discuss her feelings more, but she needed some comfort and knew V was never going to let her down. The phone rang for a minute before she heard a, “Hey, Fi!”</p><p>She gasped out a sound of relief, hearing a calm, “You okay girl? What’s wrong?” </p><p>“I keep fucking up with Sean. And Gus. And the kids. Will got a hold of a gun that Carl had in the house because he’s in a gang and I didn’t stop him, Sean’s upset and his ex is threatening custody, I ghosted my own husband who I have no feelings for ‘cause I married him on a whim, Ian’s bipolar issues caused him to leave the one solid person there for him because the rest of us are fucked up in our own other ways we couldn’t drop our problems to help him, who even knows about Lip right now but I’m sure something is wrong there, Debbie ran off with Queenie and Frank to have a baby with a hippy community, and god, I still cry over the fact that Liam could be damaged from cocaine that I let him into.”</p><p>She was gasping between tears into the phone now. All she wanted to do was be the supportive adult for her family and pick up the slack from Frank and Monica. She couldn’t even do that right though. She reflected on so many past moments that she failed to guide them during. Debbie got herself knocked up because she didn’t have that tight of a grip on her anymore. Hell, she could have called the law on Ned for sleeping with her underaged brother but didn’t because ‘Gallagher’s don’t call the cops, they handle their own problems’. And where was she when Carl was selling drugs on the side of the road? </p><p>She heard a mumble in the background of the phone before V obviously walked into a different room. “Look, you’re coming over and we’re going to get wine drunk. Okay? But before we do that, I’m not hanging up with you feeling this down on yourself, Fi. So you better listen and listen well. You are a beautiful goddess of a woman. You sacrificed your entire life basically to raise five kids who aren’t yours. Sure, you clearly have problems with men but who doesn’t? As for fucking up, you’re taking care of five Gallaghers at twenty four years old. That’s a hard task for anyone to deal with, let alone someone so young with so much against her. They’re getting older though, they can’t rely on you directing their asses in the right direction. You gotta trust them to make their own choices. Sean knew what he was getting into though. Gus is a whole different situation of fucked up, I have no advice there but maybe we can think about it while we get shit faced tonight. Bring Liam, Kev can watch the babies.”</p><p>Fiona laughed through tears, thankful to have a friend like V in her life. “Yeah that sounds great. Let me pick up Liam and I’ll be over there. Meet you at the Alibi.”</p><p>~~</p><p>Ian heard noises next to him as someone crawled out of the bed. He opened his eyes to the familiar settings of the Milkovich house. The room felt like home, Ian remembered having spent many manic nights laying in this very bed staring at the posters while he was unable to sleep. He thought back to the night before. Mandy had sat, talking to the cops.</p><p>She looked like a nervous animal, but she was reasonable and answered all their questions. Ian was in another room but he could see both Milkovich siblings, separated, but answering the cops questions. They both looked nervous, not being huge fans of the law. Mickey was a bit calmer than Mandy, as he stood next to Tony who was questioning him.</p><p>Ian felt a sudden rush of jealousy, remembering Tony fawning over him on the baseball field. Did Tony Markovich have a crush on Mickey Milkovich? What a weird fucking thought. He knew Tony was gay but he couldn’t get the imagine of him chasing Fiona out of his head. Nor the secrets she had giggled to him after a drunken night of shared beer and shitty reruns while they cozied up on the ugly green living room couch.</p><p>Before long the cops decided Ian and Mickey had no role in the death and moved on. Mandy was still being questioned, since she was the only one here with Andy before he died. A medical examiner studied the dead body behind the bathroom doors, where Mickey and Ian had moved him carefully back. </p><p>Ian walked to stand next to Mickey. The pair met each other’s eyes as Mickey crossed his arms over his chest, watching the cops. Tony stood next to him, watching the duo. Ian was sure he was confused, seeing as last he had seen him Ian had mentioned the split and now the two were together, in a hotel where a dead body was found. After a second of silence Tony announced, “Well I’m going to head back to the police station. Gotta file reports from tonight. You two take care and stay out of trouble will you? See ya later, Milkovich. Gallagher.”</p><p>He held Ian’s eyes, clearly determined to stare him down. Ian still liked Tony, but he could tell the man saw him as some form of competition now. </p><p>The two were left alone, waiting for Mandy. They both stood, watching her. The cop dealing with her still handed her a box of Kleenex, as she used it to rub the tears from her face. She looked completely innocent with her soft blonde hair and pretty pink dress. Mickey broke the moment, “Thanks, Ian,” he turned to look him in the eyes. “I know Mandy and I jumped to pretty fucking extreme measures, but you aren’t raised like we were without wanting to avoid the cops at all costs. Andy wouldn’t have been the first dead guy we needed to hide. Call us trash if you want, but it’s just reflex at this point.”</p><p>Ian watched Mandy, before replying, “You're not bad people, Mick. I’m just as screwed up as you all, nobody gets out of the southside completely sane or comfortable with the law. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have known how to deal with the Caleb situation before,” he gave Mickey a cheeky smile. “I think I realized that you balance me out. I helped you out here, you helped me out before.”</p><p>Mickey looked stunned, mouth opening up to say something right as Mandy walked to them, halting the moment. </p><p>She used her left arm to nervously grab the upper part of her right arm while chewing her lip. “Cops said we're free to go. I don’t want to be alone tonight.”</p><p>Ian checked his phone screen, noticing it was late into the night. He started to invite her back to the Gallagher house when Mickey cut him off. “Wanna come home for the night? Just Svetlana, Yev, and Sandy there right now. Iggy’s shacking up with some rich bitch and fuck knows where Colin went. Nobody else has been around in a minute.”</p><p>Mandy’s face broke into a small sad smile, the image far removed from the usual hot headed girl who practically spit fire. “Yeah, I’d like that. Let’s go home, Mick.”</p><p>Ian nervously rocked from foot to foot before announcing he was heading home. Mandy grabbed his arm and pulled him into a hug. “Come spend the night? Just for the night?”</p><p>He reluctantly agreed while staring at Mickey over Mandy’s head before the three piled into Mandy’s car. They arrived outside of their home in about thirty minute,  house full of sleeping residents greeting them and immediately all headed to bed, feeling odd about the night.</p><p>Ian rubbed his eyes, coming back to the current day as sunlight streamed into the window. He opened his eyes and raised up on one elbow, seeing Mandy crawl to the edge of the bed where she was zipping her dress back up. He looked at her, sleepily greeting, “Hey.”</p><p>From the kitchen he heard a thick accent shout, “Breakfast, guests who no longer live here but are here anyway!”</p><p>Mandy walked towards the living room. “Coming?”</p><p>He threw the covers back before dangling his legs on the side of the bed. “I really should go, gotta study.”</p><p>She leaned against the doorframe. “For what?”</p><p>“EMT. My ex-boyfriend convinced me to try it. Broke up recently but I don’t know, I still really think I could make it as an EMT. Had some basic training when I was in the army.”</p><p>A smirk broke out across her face, making her look more like the Mandy he knew and less like the scared girl from last night. “When did you all break up? After spending time with my stupid brother again?”</p><p>He flipped her off, smile matching hers. “I miss Mickey, but Caleb was normal. Normal was just something I thought I needed, except he turned out to be too normal. Didn’t feel right with him.”</p><p>“I throw out breakfast if nobody comes! Potoropites'!” </p><p>Ian jumped up, knowing better than to think Svetlana was bluffing. The pair walked out of the bedroom, spotting Svetlana setting Yevgeny’s plate down while Sandy was scooping what looked like oatmeal from a pot on the stove. Mickey laid on the couch, arm thrown over his eyes. He peaked from under his arm when he heard the newcomers. Suddenly self conscious, Ian wished he had thought to throw on a shirt.</p><p>“Have fun cozying it up in my damn bed?” Mickey asked. One eye was watching Ian while the other was covered by his arm.</p><p>“Your room? Thought you may have swapped. You don’t have any of your shit in there anymore.”</p><p>Svetlana looked up from where she had placed Yev’s plate, currently cutting up the last of the bananas in front of Yev now, “Kev tell immigrant officer I’m illegal. We fake husband and wife more convincingly now. Mickey and I share room,” she waved towards the food. “Eat porridge before it goes cold.” </p><p>Mickey sat up, looking at Ian as he spoke. “She moved all my shit out just last night. We ain’t sharing no bed, I’m sleeping on the damn couch before that happens.”</p><p>From the kitchen table, Sandy shoved a mouthful in before addressing Mandy as she sat next to her, “Blood on yo’ shirt? Giv’ it here, I’ll get it ou’ before yo’ go. Borro’ mine.”</p><p>“Chew with mouth closed. Even Zhenya know better.”</p><p>Sandy flipped her off before throwing her spoon down in the bowl and leading Mandy towards the bathroom.</p><p>“Down!” Yevgeny suddenly squealed, drawing everyone left in the room’s attention to him. Ian’s heart suddenly ached, he didn’t realize how much he missed the youngest Milkovich until this very moment.</p><p>Svetlana gave him a soft look. “Orange boy if you do not run off with him this time, you can hold him.”</p><p>She scooped up Yevgeny, who had finished eating his bananas and was currently squeezing the last in his fist, before handing him cautiously to Ian. She watched him carefully, obviously not quite trusting him but wanting to make an effort. Ian bounced him on his hip, eyes filling with tears. He had gotten so big. Gone was the baby stare and cute bow legs. He looked at Mickey who was watching him, conflict on his face. Yevgeny just stared at Ian with purpose, confusion across his face as he looked to see if he knew him. It hurt Ian that he didn’t recognize him, a fact that was obvious by the look Yev was giving him, but that was Ian’s fault. He was young, and it had been too long since Ian was involved in his life.</p><p>He waved his hand at him. “Hi Yev. It’s me, Ian. I know you don’t remember me, but I’m a friend of your dad’s.”</p><p>Mickey grunted. “Doesn’t really call me dad. Quiet kid in general, doesn’t say much.” </p><p>Svetlana replied softly, “He plays though. Laughs and squeals. Uses Russian and English when he talks. Just does not want to much. No problem, take things at his own time. As long as he’s happy.”</p><p>Yev points at Ian, “E-an,” he points at toys and asks in a soft childish voice, “Igrat'?”</p><p>He smiled, putting Yev down. The toddler rushed over to his book and grabbed it, sitting down to read it. Clearly, he wasn’t quite there as he held the book upside down. Mickey grabbed it and turned it around in his hands, causing Yev to fuss at him for a second. </p><p>He sat next to Yev, feeling both sad and glad for all the times he had been in this same situation with the boy in the past but shame rushed through him for all the time he had missed since breaking up with Mickey. All the emotions that had washed over him on the bridge that day came back to him. He was the worst, dumping Mickey like that. He had tried to push him out of his mind, but he realized over the weekend that there was no room for anyone else to preoccupy his mind like Mick did.</p><p>Suddenly a hand was on his shoulder as Mickey lowered himself next to the pair. “All right, little man, Ian said he’ll read that book to you.”</p><p>He winked at Ian, who laughed at the carefree exchange. Leave it to a simple gesture from Mickey to make him feel better. He leaned over Yevgeny’s shoulder, reading out loud a story about a sheep who ran away. </p><p>~~</p><p>After Mandy washed her shirt, she followed Sandy into the living room, surprised to see Ian and Mickey bonding over Yevgeny. She knew those two were still so very clearly into each other. Learning they had split and for so long shocked her, but it was clear the love was still there. She wasn’t sure what had happened and didn’t get much detail out of Sandy, who had been in juvie for the majority of the breakup. Even before then, Sandy was prone to disappearing. </p><p>They had sat on the washer, catching up since Mandy had failed in the effort department to reach out to anyone. She wasn’t trying to abandon her family, except for her piece of shit dad, but she just wanted to leave some things in the past. She was nearly stunned to learn that Sandy was an out and proud lesbian now. A bit of pride welled up in her, knowing Mickey had made that possible for Sandy. Sure, she’d spent years thinking her brother wasn’t much different from her other two, but he’d really proved her wrong. </p><p>She remembered being ashamed of him for being a deadbeat dad, thinking he’d just knocked up Svetlana and moved on. She didn’t realize how deep the situation was, only slowly learning more after the wedding. </p><p>The moment between Mickey and Ian was clearly broken when the two appeared. Svetlana was in the kitchen, trying to stay away from the two, clearly giving them some privacy and once again astonishing Mandy even more with how adult these people she left behind were acting.</p><p>Mickey cleared his throat, focusing all of his attention on Yev instead of on Ian. “You leaving?” </p><p>“Yeah, need a ride?” she directed the question towards Ian. </p><p>He nodded before getting off. He awkwardly looked around, clearly unsure of how to say bye in the situation before reaching down and squeezing Mickey’s shoulder. “Bye Mick, bye everyone.”</p><p>Sandy smirked, “Don’t be a stranger,” she wiggled her fingers in his direction while plastering on the fakest smile. </p><p>The two walked outside before climbing into Mandy’s car. She started the engine and peeled away from the curb. The two sat quietly until Mandy broke the silence. “How’s Lip?”</p><p>“He’s great. Acing his classes. He was banging this professor, and that got kind of ugly but you know Lip.”</p><p>Ian watched her, while Mandy gripped the wheels tightly. “You know I’m okay right? I mean the company I work for is a real business. It’s payroll checks, health insurance. They take Amex. And, I’m saving money. I got a nice apartment,” she motioned one hand to the vehicle they sat in. “Got a nice car.”</p><p>He smiled sadly. “Guy last night tried to strangle you.”</p><p>“First time that happened, and I used to get beat up for free. Now I don’t sleep with anyone I don’t want to. I got regulars who are like boyfriends. One guy flew me to New York first class.” </p><p>She refused to let any Gallagher see her as a victim. She’d spent years with that title and had dug her way out of that situation. Owning her own body and becoming the one in charge. </p><p>Ian’s face changed from pity to curiosity. “What was that like?”</p><p>She looked over at him, flashing him a real smile. “We saw Wicked on Broadway, and I went to restaurants, Jacuzzi in the hotel.”</p><p>“I was dancing in this club last year, blew guys for fifty bucks. So, there’s no judgement.” </p><p>Mandy remembered. She remembered Mickey drinking himself stupid over it too, but Ian wasn’t well. “Why’d you’d stop?”</p><p>He replied with a fake smile and a matching reason. “I just didn’t like starving myself to fit in that gold thong.”</p><p>The two smiled, knowing it was deeper than that. Mandy’s voice dropped before she said, “You know that just ‘cause we were born here, doesn’t mean that we end up here.”</p><p>He grabbed her hand and held it before confessing. “I fucked things up with Mickey and I haven’t even admitted it out loud until now.”</p><p>She squeezed his hand back. “I know. I also know it’s not unfixable though. I can tell.”</p><p>She hoped Ian would become a wonderful EMT and hoped that whatever happened in his love life would make him happy. She knew Mickey could do that, but she wondered if Ian would let himself be loved.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I probably have forgotten to translate some of Svetlana's Russian but for this chapter:<br/>Nepravil’no means wrong<br/>Potoropites' is hurry (a formal verison but it was that or bistro, and I figured if I used bistro it would be confusing since in English bistro is a small cafe lol).</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Paradise Lost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sveltana’s whole being was filled with exasperation and worry. She knew she painted the picture of a stone cold face of a woman that let nothing get to her, but being separated from her son was the worst fate she could think of. V was over to help, along with her chocolate-vanilla toddlers to force a bond over cheap plastic toys. Yevgeny, Amy, and Jemma had a whole tub for their choosing, yet Amy and Yev still caused war over a silly little doll. Like a strong independent toddler, Jemma swooped in to solve the problem by grabbing the ugly ragdoll out of both sets of tiny hands. Svetlana respected her for that, but she was too focused on her stupid husband and her threatened lifestyle to stop to praise the little girl.</p><p>“So what if I don’t know your favorite song? Really sells the whole bullshit terrible husband straight thing even damn better,” her same stupid husband said after lowering his beer, burping.</p><p>“<em>Pridurok</em>! We will fail. I teach carrot boy Russian, no problems. I teach you my life, only problem. It is not teacher who is dumb, it is student who does not care.”</p><p>She stood up from the couch, where she had been observing the little ones. She stomped towards Mickey, until their faces were only inches apart. Behind her, V stood up, suddenly throwing herself in between the two to push them back.</p><p>“Lana, tell him our idea,” V said, attempting to settle her rage. She had her hands raised, in an attempt to keep the peace.</p><p>“Lana?” Mickey questioned. They weren’t exactly known for their nicknames for each other, unless they were insults. He may have asked about the name, but it was more out of annoyed curiosity than because he cared.</p><p>“Yes, what V calls me,” Svetlana smirked. She thought about the cards she was given by the dealer. She knew from the first moment she stepped into this very house, with the tense atmosphere and two scared young men cowering from Terry’s wrath, that her future husband liked other boys. His father had called her pimp and specifically requested her of all the women. She thought it was because Terry had clearly been the most interested in her, often sulking towards her at the whorehouse. His dark malevolent eyes popped up in her nightmares, and yet she would later wield his horrible reputation to her advantage, but out of fear of her own future. He held her at gunpoint, not allowing her to have a say in what happened to his son. She had not wanted to touch him, being victim to the same scene in the past.</p><p>Still, when Terry declared Mickey was to marry her, she became excited. She thought the incident would be left in the past and they'd grow to be a stereotypical happy American family with their own child. Then the carrot boy left, and her husband was reduced to a sad sack of shit. Until one night, no different than any other at that point, she reached the doorway after her nightly shower and her husband’s same lost lover he had risked his life for once was in her bed. She felt threatened and scared, not wanting to end up on the streets with a baby bundled up in her arms. Not wanting Zhenya to lose father.</p><p>She would ultimately lose to the lover boy in a scene she never could have predicted, but that same boy that so threatened her would also pull a rug from under her feet by making Mickey into a family man. She grew to like him, more so than her own husband. They just clicked when all the drama was pushed aside and they were reduced to their raw real selves. Until he stole the baby.Being around V, who cared for Ian’s family though, had forced her to understand the situation. It could not be helped that he was genetically crazy. Besides, he took medicine for it now. All was good.</p><p>Mickey shrugged to himself. “You guys got cute dyke pet names now?”</p><p>“Listen up,” Svetlana cut him off. “You have two choice. You play good husband and meet with immigrant officer. At the end of two years, we divorce. You won’t be stuck with me and can officially be rainbow boy with whoever you want. Will not ask you for money.”</p><p>“Not interested in anyone, but getting rid of you? Tempted,” Mickey snarkily replied.</p><p>“Let me finish. If not, I divorce husband now. I go after husband for support. Money for Yevgeny, I move out. You stay by lonesome,” she smiled sweetly, knowing he didn’t have much of a choice besides to bite the bait.</p><p>Mickey scoffed. “And what? Get your ass deported immediately.”</p><p>V stepped up, putting her hand on Svetlana’s shoulder. Svet raised her own hand to hold V’s as if they were actually lovers.</p><p>“I’ll marry Lana. We’ve already been practicing, just in case she needs a backup plan in case your ass fails her.”</p><p>He quirked his eyebrow. “Yeah? And how the fuck did Kev take that one? Can’t see him just being down for his fake wife getting for real married.”</p><p>Svetlana and V exchanged glances. Mickey was a cocky shit when he wanted to be. She liked it sometimes, he had defended her with his sass before. Protected her and other girls from Sasha. She did not at all like it now.</p><p>V rushed to reply, cutting off Svetlana. “Yeah well, the least he can do is give his blessing. Since he’s the one that outed her to INS.”</p><p>Mickey groaned, before biting his lip out of habit. She picked up on him doing that when he was thinking. “Fine, I’ll make more fucking efforts. We’re already sharing a room, don’t know what else I need to do.”</p><p>She continued to grin, looking over at V as she did it. Their excitement was cut short by the ring of a phone. Mickey dug into his pocket, face wrinkling up before walking out of the room.</p><p>“Think he’s going to go through with it?” V asked. She scratched her head while her face twisted up in a doubtful expression. Svetlana wouldn’t be unhappy choosing V, and maybe even Kev. She liked them both enough, even if one was another stupid man. But she had grown to like her life how it was. It snuck up on her for sure, but she and the homosexual husband spent some nights on the couch drunk talking together. Mickey never liked to acknowledge it, so she avoided mentioning it outside of those moments. He even encouraged her American dream to open a Quiznos one day, but only if that came with free subs for him.</p><p>Amy began crying, and V scooped her up. Yevgeny’s face twisted up, clearly out of jealousy. Little moments like this reminded her of Mickey, she had seen the same twist in his eyebrows that her son did. He waddled over to Svetlana and raised his tiny arms as she scooped him up and held him close before replying.</p><p>“Yes, he acts tough and as if he does not like Yevgeny and I, but he show otherwise at times. Was raised to not have emotions, does not trust us enough to say so, but I know. We may not be friends, but we are allies.”</p><p>The moment was cut short when he walked back into the room, as Svetlana knew not to get emotional with him.</p><p>“I gotta go.”</p><p>“Seeing carrot boy?” She asked. She knew he was okay on meds, only time held them apart now. Which was stupid, she lived by the idea that if you want it you go for it. Besides, after he called and her husband ran to him once again, she knew they were souls that were related.</p><p>He flipped her off. “I’ll be back later, before your shift.”</p><p>She used Yevgeny’s arm to fake a wave. “Say goodbye to son.”</p><p>He turned at the door to wave back. “Bye little man,” before disappearing outside.</p><p>~~</p><p>“I don’t usually get this nervous before tests,” Ian said. He didn’t know what made him ask Mickey to come with him to get screened. He didn’t want to remind Mickey that he was out hoe-ing around behind his back in his manic days, but it was important to him to make sure he was safe now. Besides, he didn’t know how long Caleb had been cheating on him. He was going to get all his shit straightened out, then he was going to right his wrong with Mickey. His biggest regret.</p><p>“They tell you pretty damn fast if you’re fucked or not,” Mickey leaned against the wall, skimming through a magazine.</p><p>Ian paused, had Mickey taken an HIV test before? He had meant the EMT practicals when he mentioned being nervous, but now his curiosity had been sparked. What all exactly had Mickey dealt with, because of him? He stared him down until Mickey looked up, answering the unasked question.</p><p>“Quit fucking staring. Yes, I’ve taken it before.”</p><p>Ian’s mouth fell open, did he really make Mickey worry that much in the past? It was all a blur, but he could vaguely remember trying to shrug off Mickey’s worry over his hyper sexuality. In his head he got them the money they needed, nothing more. He continued to look at Mickey while he pretended he didn’t notice as he continued to clearly attempt to ignore him. Finally as the silence stretched on without an answer, Ian blurted out. “Did you think I gave you something?”</p><p>An irritated noise rose up from Mickey’s throat as he slammed the magazine shut. “Look, I wasn’t sure. Got tested after you fucked off. Knew you slept with at least one guy bareback. Didn’t know if there were more, not a big fucking deal.”</p><p>Ian stood up, grabbing Mickey’s arm. “Mick, that’s a huge deal. I am so sorry.”</p><p>He stared him down, his eyes felt huge and teary. Mickey snapped. “Quite looking at me like a damned kicked puppy. It’s not a big deal. You were manic, you got help. That’s all I fucking wanted. Sit the hell down.”</p><p>Ian dropped back into his chair. He knew it bothered Mickey, he could read him like a book at this point, even with almost a year of separation between them. Silence stretched on until Ian couldn’t stand it. “For the record, I was talking about my EMT practicals this afternoon.”</p><p>Mickey slowly turned to make eye contact as his face turned into a grimace. “You fucking serious?”</p><p>The door opened suddenly, revealing a short woman. “Morning. My name is Nurse Edmonds. Have you been tested for HIV before?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Mickey hung back, leaning against the wall, watching. The nurse addressed Ian as she spoke. “I’ll just poke your finger, take a little blood. We get the results while you wait. I need to ask you a few questions,” he uncomfortably looked around as he felt Mickey’s eyes on him.“Approximately, how many sexual partners have you had?”</p><p>“Um,” Ian was suddenly hyper aware of Mickey, who quickly pretended he wasn’t giving Ian a side eyed glance. “It’s hard to say.”</p><p>Assuming, the nurse turned to Mickey. “Normally we discuss this in private with the patient.”</p><p>Mickey practically bristled up. “You want me to leave?” Ian refused to look up at Mickey, feeling ashamed to even be in the situation. “Fine, I’ll wait in the damn hallway.”</p><p>Ian watched his form walking away. He was wrong for what he dragged Mick through in the past, but was hiding more really the best choice? Even if it hurt Mickey now, he already somewhat had an idea of Ian’s past and it was better to get all their dirty secrets out in the open, if Ian was ever going to have a chance. Mickey’s fist curled around the door handle when Ian shouted, “No, wait!”</p><p>Mickey hesitated, turning around with his eyebrow fully quirked up.</p><p>“What?” he snapped.</p><p>Ian's jaw was clenched tightly, but he spit out. “Stay. I don’t want to hide anything from you. Not anymore.”</p><p>The nurse stayed quiet, witnessing but thankfully not inputting again, until Mickey slowly turned around and let go of the handle. She carried on immediately, ignoring the mini soap opera scene she had just caused. “So more than ten partners?”</p><p>Ian counted to himself. His eyes trained on the wall in the distance as he attempted to remember the many men. He shuttered before looking at the ground. “I have no idea how many guys I’ve been with.”</p><p>The nurse wrote down on her pad, completely void of emotion, not even bothering to look up as she threw another shattering question to Ian. “Use a condom always?”</p><p>He grimaced, she clearly was not going to beat around the bush even though he pursued Mickey to stay. A peek towards Mickey revealed that he was practically burning holes into the magazine now. “Um no. Not always.”</p><p>He observed Mickey as his whole body flinched, even though he had discovered that little detail before.</p><p>She finished assaulting Ian with humiliating questions, filling her sheet out before leaving to carry on business behind the scenes.</p><p>Left behind in the room, the walls of the room suddenly felt like they were closing in around him, before the lights blinded him with a fake fluorescent shine. He felt claustrophobic and trapped, suddenly hyper aware of every fuck up he’d ever caused. The dam that was Ian’s mouth bursted from the pressure, causing a long winded babble about every thought that had run through his head during the interrogation of his sex life.</p><p>“Oh god. I danced in a strip club, Mick. I was manic. Worked the back of the house as much as the front. I did a porn movie. You know this,” he spoke without taking a breath, gulping for air as he continued his nonsensical pleading.</p><p>Mickey looked up, face both hard and somehow void of emotion before interrupting. “Don’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” his features softened as Ian’s eyes dropped towards the ground, huge and shaky from all the panicking.</p><p>“Look, calm the fuck down. Don’t even blame you, not for shit you couldn’t control. I messed up too. Ran around and fucked a couple people while you were off with Monica. Fucking hurt me, man. Doesn’t mean it was right either.”</p><p>Ouch, that stung. It was well warranted, but once the first tear rolled down his cheek, he felt defeated. He didn’t say anything, feeling like he lost that right a long time ago. Mickey shut the magazine, eyes rolling as he did, before pushing off the wall and grabbing Ian. His body was flush against Ian’s in a brief but intimate embrace, clutching his shoulders and slotting his neck against Ian’s shoulder.</p><p>The instant Mickey touched him, his worries were soothed. He inhaled a deep breath to calm himself from the panic he felt before. The embrace lasted what felt like seconds, only for Mickey to let go at once when the twist of the doorknob followed by a click announced Nurse Edmonds’s return. She hadn’t looked up from her clip board yet until the pair had completely moved away from each other.</p><p>“Good news. Test was negative,” she smiled warmly towards Ian.</p><p>He met eyes with Mickey, beaming over the news. Despite all that had gone down in her absence, Mickey’s face held a real delighted smile at the news and that proud look alone caused a burst of emotion inside of Ian. If he had still been questioning the fact that Mickey still loved him, the whole situation now confirmed that it was still the case.</p><p>If he didn’t, he was practically torturing them both by sticking around. An arm wrapped around him, pulling him closer before nestling him into a half hug. Mickey squeezed Ian’s shoulder, spreading warmth through his body while being completely unconcerned about the nurse in the room witnessing the act. Ian’s face held a splitting grin, quickly erasing the look of terror from before.</p><p>~~</p><p>He was nervous, but all his years of ROTC training prepared him to look visibly cool and collected. A stern man overlooked the EMT trainees from the front of the room, dressed in a blue tucked in shirt and polo pants, which all together meant business.</p><p>“I will be administering your psychomotor, or practical test today. You will be expected to perform the following,” Ian stood still with his hands behind his back, reliving memories of his brief stint in the army.</p><p>“Assessment and management of a trauma patient, bag-valve-mask ventilation of a apneic patient, spinal immobilization, traction splinting, bleeding control and shock management, upper airway adjuncts and suction.”</p><p>Group by group, the ones waiting to take their practicals were led into the testing room. Ian’s senses were hyper focused from nerves. The ticking of a clock on the way might just cause him to snap if he stood here much longer. Sweat collected on his brow as he waited for his group’s turn. The order seemed random, with a man appearing periodically, clutching a stack of paperwork assigned to the nervous recruits waiting before calling out a name and leading the chosens one out.</p><p>Finally after what felt like a lifetime of waiting, the man appeared again shouting out, ‘Ian Clayton Gallagher’. Ian shuffled forward, with a few others whose names were called, before heading towards the door. He was taken into a similar open room where the real test began.</p><p>A few test givers stood around, while Ian and his group routed stations to show off how well they knew all aspects of being an EMT.</p><p>Upon his final station, he was to determine what to do in a specific situation where a man was seemingly lying unconscious on the ground. “You respond to a scene where a victim has fallen out of a third floor window. On arrival your patient is lying supine on the street.”</p><p>Ian was crouched next to the man, staring intensely down at him. “This my only patient?”</p><p>“It is,” A test giver marked on his clipboard.</p><p>“Sir can you hear me?” Ian mocked asked the actor on the ground, before addressing the man with the clipboard. “He appears unresponsive. Is he breathing?”</p><p>Another mark. “Yes.”</p><p>He reached for his wrist. “Checking pulse,” he reached to feel his neck. “Checking carotid.”</p><p>This wasn’t a real situation so everything felt completely fine, but the tester with the clipboard informed him, “His pulse is weak.”</p><p>“I’m gonna do a quick rapid trauma check,” Ian felt the ‘unconscious' man's face before carefully touching him with a purpose, hands brushing across the body in tiny touch and go movements. “Suspecting he may have a spinal injury. I’m gonna grab a c-spine.”</p><p>He looked up at the test giver, excitement rolling off him in waves as he anticipated a reply.</p><p>“Excellent.”</p><p>Ian nodded before wrapping a neck brace around the actor’s neck. All those nerves for nothing.</p><p>~~</p><p>Svetlana held a tight leash around his fucking neck lately. Along with her newly strengthened friendship with V, and Kev’s newfound one sided man crush on Mickey, he had no hope in getting out of this situation.</p><p>He was promised free booze, less babysitting of the kid for a month, less Svetlana threats, and free weed. He knew already it still wasn’t worth it.</p><p>“Ladies, we have a bachelorette in the house tonight! Our first dance is for the future Mrs. Fiona Pierce.”</p><p>He walked out behind Kermit, Tommy, and Kev. They all were dressed in tiny outfits that barely covered their junk. All because Fiona had gotten engaged right as she literally divorced the last one. He techically couldn’t talk, as a still married man who dated during the very same marriage, but the circumstances were completely fucking different.</p><p>Kermit had on a button up shirt that was unbuttoned. Tommy was wearing the smallest shorts possible and a cowboy hat, and Kev had on a be-fucking-dazzled construction hat. The three of them hip thrusted while Mickey scowled the whole time, but hey at least he was on the fucking stage. In a pair of Ian’s tiny golden shorts he had forgotten long ago and his ripped up security jacket he’s recently found as a lame attempt at a shield.</p><p>Svetlana, Fiona, V, and Melinda cheered. He specificly heard Svetlana raise her arms and yell, “That is my stupid husband! Wooh!”</p><p>The three continued their fucking awful ass dance, which they had uncomfortably practiced while clothed in the middle of the Alibi. He honestly wondered which had been worse. Kev then noticed Mickey’s lack of effort so he grabbed his wrists and forced him to do the damn little act. This, this was worse.</p><p>The girls continued shrieking and laughing while everyone on stage turned around and shook their asses. Kev whipped Mickey around and slapped his ass, leading to Mickey getting up in his face to threaten to punch his lights out.</p><p>In the audience Svetlana pulled out a bunch of dollar bills, probably just excited to be on the other side of the situation for once. She winked at Mickey while waving them and shouting happily.</p><p>V and Fiona laughed, throwing their arms around each other like a bunch of fucking giggling teenage girls. The room went from one hundred to zero the moment Kermit decided to rip off his entire outfit, dick completely hanging out for all to see. Pierced and everything.</p><p>Mickey planned on bleaching his eyes later at the sight. He turned away as fast as he could, knowing one of the three idiots was likely to make a gay comment, but all he heard was Kermit confusingly asking, “What? You said we were all doing Full Monty!”</p><p>Mickey snapped, “No we fucking ain’t. Tommy was just fucking with ya!”</p><p>Fiona raised her glass, with the other women joining after her. The men shuffled off the stage as the music slowed to an end, Mickey practically sprinted to the back. As soon as he spotted his pants to tug on he suddenly found a wade of money being stuffed in his tiny gold shorts, a situation he also thought he’d never be on the end of. Svetlana has creeped backstage, slurring her words. “For your trouble. V say thank you for the help with bachelorette party.”</p><p>She blew into a party horn before practically skipping away, all giggly and drunk. He realized that before V, she hadn’t really bonded with anyone. She only had Nika before, and he wasn’t sure he had ever even seen them laugh with one another. Their whole relationship seemed to be built on companionship and survival, before Nika ran off with one of their customers. He wouldn’t admit it, fucking ever, but he was sorta even glad for Svet lately.</p><p>That is, until his hand brushed the chair that had previously held his discarded jeans and was met with only air. “Svetlana! The fuck are my pants?”</p><p>~~</p><p>“Where ya at?”</p><p>Sent. Ian had walked out of the testing area a while ago and was currently circling Chicago with crushed spirits. His hands were shoved into his pockets and his head hung low as he walked down the sidewalk. He had his paperwork clenched within his fist in his pockets, no longer caring if it was a crumbled mess. Why would he? Not after that. He walked to the crosswalk, stopping while he waited for the light to change. He hoped Fiona replied soon, he didn’t know who to go to besides her. He didn’t want to bother Mickey, reminding himself with a wince that the two of them were not a thing. Just friends.</p><p>A ding on his phone notified him of an incoming text. He opened it to read, “Strip club. Uncle Paulie’s.”</p><p>He let out a breath that his sister pulled through so fast, before looking both ways and darting across the street to the L.</p><p>The entire ride to his stop he just dwelled on the crumbled paper he held. His new dreams were ruined. Again.</p><p>He shouldn’t have listened to Caleb, and he especially shouldn’t have gone through with it after the break up. His family had pushed him, seeing a new direction open up for him that could make him happy, and of course that would make them overjoyed. He still hesitated though, at least until Mickey found out and gave him some tough love advice.</p><p>“Either do it or don’t, but don’t use dumping that asshole as your reason not to. Plenty fucking smart enough,” he’d grunted. Ian had only confessed to him after accidentally letting it slip to Mandy, who decided that bonding with her brother was exactly what she needed suddenly. He had suspicions it was more of an attempt at forced matchmaking, but he wasn’t going to get in the way of that.</p><p>Once Mickey got word of his dilemma, he wasn’t about to let Ian give up on his goal. Ian had side eyed him, blush spreading over his face at the encouragement. He knew that Mickey’s tough words held warmth beneath them.</p><p>The train came to a stop, pulling Ian from his thoughts and back into the real world. He hopped out of the cart and walked briskly towards the direction of Uncle Paulie’s. He remembered Fiona mentioning the bachelorette party. She had been zooming around, holding Liam while she made sure Sean was stocked with supplies to watch him. Sean himself kept reminding her that he was in fact a dad, so there was no need to worry.</p><p>Once he was allowed in, he spotted Fi immediately from across the room. The table of loud shrieking women was a dead giveaway. His eyes scanned the room, noticing Kev settled in a chair in front of them, stripper attire and all. He even had a bejeweled hat on that impressed Ian with how far Kev was willing to go for this. That basically described Kev though, Ian wondered what was his limit to weirdly dedicating himself to a cause.</p><p>Fiona noticed him strolling towards the table, arm shooting up as she excitedly waved him over.</p><p>“Ian! Eee-aaan!”, her wave became more frantic. He had a hard time staying as pissed off as he was upon seeing the sight of his inebriated sister having a blast. When he approached the group, he grabbed a chair from a nearby table and turned it around before practically straddling the chair. He had it’s back turned towards the girls so he could prop him arms on it.</p><p>“I aced the test.”</p><p>“Congratulations!”</p><p>“And then I get the paperwork to be certified,” he held up the crumbled sheet before reading out loud, “Have you ever spent any time in a mental institution or been treated for mental illness?’ Fucking believe that? I get a perfect score on my test and they wanna keep me from being an EMT because I fucking spent a few days in an inpatient program?”</p><p>Fiona grimaced, while the other girls looked uncomfortable. Kev’s face twisted up, mouth open to lay down some Kev logic, if Ian had to guess, before a new voice interrupted him, “Fucking lie to them, man. You don’t owe them shit.”</p><p>Ian swirled around, eyes making contact with Mickey’s before dragging down his whole body. Why the fuck was he in gold shorts and a ripped up unbuttoned shirt? His gold shorts. His mood was temporarily lifted, because damn. What a sight to be seen. Mickey really rocked those small shorts. He couldn’t stop staring, eyes racking over his chest slowly, enjoying the smooth skin he’d spent plenty of time practically worshipping in the past, before finally landing on his face.</p><p>“What are you wearing?” he cackled. It was definitely a sight he loved but he also couldn’t believe someone managed to force him into the outfit. Was he up on stage? Fuck, he wished he had gotten here earlier. He cursed the L for not showing up just five minutes earlier.</p><p>Mickey must have forgotten about the teeny golden shorts because his face suddenly erupted with a blush that moved rapidly up his face. He mumbled, “Bachelorette party for your sister. Don’t fucking ask,” he leaned across the girl’s to rip something out of Svetlana’s hands. “Bitch stole my jeans.”</p><p>Svetlana stood up, laying her arm around Mickey’s shoulder as he clearly tried to wish himself away. “Husband is good husband sometime. I ask, he did,” Mickey shrugged her off before returning a death glare. “I steal pants because angry man in gold shorts is funnier.”</p><p>Mickey spit out, “Fuck you. More like bribing was involved. Bribes and threats, all you’re good for outside of a handjob.”</p><p>V giggled. “I told her to,” she then threw her head back, drunkenly cackling at herself. “He looked like Oscar the Grouch on stage, except tiny gold shorts instead of a silver can.”</p><p>Fiona cut them all off. “Okay. Okaaaay,” she drew out, waving her hands and drunkenly hushing the group’s laughter. “Maybe we focus more on the problems and less on Mickey’s tiny items of clothing.”</p><p>Mickey flipped her off. “You’re filling out that paperwork, Gallagher. No arguments. Didn’t bust your ass for them to say no over some dumb shit. Grab a pen and sign your non existent ginger soul away while I get dressed. Then I’m taking your ass to drop off the forms.”</p><p>He wanted to protest, wanting Mickey to stay dressed as he was. The fact that they weren’t together anymore, despite everything that happened lately, didn’t even cross Ian’s mind when he watched him walk away. He was so close to following behind and shoving Mickey against the dressing room door, but he didn’t want to start this without clarity that Mickey was on board for a relationship again. He grabbed a pen, sat down, and signed away while he waited for Mickey.</p><p>~~</p><p>Once the paperwork was turned in, Ian shuffled from foot to foot as he stood outside the building. He didn’t want this to be the end of their night. His mind wrestled for a believable excuse to stay around Mickey, but they hadn’t exactly reconciled. Meaning, he didn’t have any reason to ask him to stay, besides a quick fuck maybe, but Ian was determined to do it right this time. No more non-committal fucks in sketchy places. No more different pages.</p><p>While he struggled to dig deep for anything at all to justify his need to be near Mickey, the man himself provided a reason. “Wanna go for a walk? I need the fresh air to clear my thoughts. Can’t stop the flashbacks of Kermit’s pierced dick from running through my head,” he shuddered at the thought.</p><p>Ian let out a deep laugh as he threw his head back before following after. Mickey set out towards Kev’s truck, who he so kindly forced to give up for the night, once again. Ian merely suggested that Kev take the ladies home while Mickey demanded he hand over the keys. Thankfully they had wanted to hit up another bar first, causing Kev to exclaim at full volume that the Rape Walker was back in business, silencing the club and forcing them all to shuffle out awkwardly. They split up there, with the keys in hand, and the truck was theirs to drive.</p><p>Ian opened the driver side door for Mick, who shuffled past him while saying, “Ain’t a fucking girl,” still he shifted his softening gaze to look Ian in the eyes. “Thanks though.”</p><p>Mickey drove in silence while Ian sat and fiddled with his hands. His jaw was clenched and he occasionally looked over at Mickey. After a few minutes, Mickey switched the radio on to fill the silence, which blasted out “Livin’ on a Prayer’. Mickey tapped along with Ian’s humming. When the chorus started Ian belted out the lines at the top of his lungs.</p><p>“<em>Woah, we're half way there</em><br/>
<em>Woah, livin' on a prayer</em><br/>
<em>Take my hand, we'll make it I swear</em><br/>
<em>Woah, livin' on a prayer</em>.”</p><p>Mickey’s face transformed as he grinned from ear to ear before playfully punching Ian’s shoulder. Ian laughed loudly but didn’t halt his butchering of Bon Jovi, singing off key and into a fake microphone before Mickey joined him.</p><p>His mind flashed back to their last duet. He hated that their history was filled with bad memories, and even the good memories usually were followed by something awful. Their sleepover led to Mickey’s wedding, where they reconnected before he disappeared to join the army. When Ian returned home thanks to Mickey dragging him off the streets, he shortly after lit a match to Mickey’s carefully constricted closet, almost leading to Mickey’s murder during their blissful honeymoon period. Despite that, things seemed completely uphill for some time when Ian’s mania then exploded full force and he cheated on Mickey because of it. Because of himself, he corrected. He was learning to take some of the blame, instead of pining it all on his mental illness. Sure, it hadn’t helped, but Ian fought against fixing it for a long time. He had to at least own up to that.</p><p>Mickey flipped on his turn signal before pulling off the road, into a grassy but snow covered area that Ian recognized.</p><p>“It's our place, man, thought it could clear your head,” he said as he shifted the gear into park and unbuckled his seatbelt.</p><p>Ian scrambled out of the car after him. Mickey stood watching Ian until he walked next to him. The pair strolled towards the darkened ballpark, which was completely soundless at night against the snow that blanketed it. It laid in patches around them, and the cold harsh air caused their breaths to be visible when they breathed out into the icy weather. They circled the area without talking, but Ian didn’t find the silence uncomfortable.</p><p>The two bumped shoulders as they walked, both attempting to ignore the chill. Ian hand brushed Mickey’s but he didn’t make any effort to hold it. He didn’t want to push Mickey, not after all he did before. He wanted Mickey to be able to make the move, or at least give him a clear indication he wanted to try this again.</p><p>Instead Mickey dug his hand in his pocket, pulling out a joint while his face broke out into a wicked grin. The them they were two years ago wouldn’t have smoked together, Mickey would have been too concerned to let Ian get high. The them of five years ago, however, would have been high while they fucked, both having their own reasonings for it. Ian liked how it felt and Mickey could use it as a cop out excuse for letting himself go too far with emotions.</p><p>He was glad Mickey was currently backing off about the weed still, but it upset him to realize that was also his fault. He had practically spit on Mickey’s attempt at nursing Ian at this very same park when they were last together.</p><p>The two continued walking, passing the joint back and forth until they were comfortably high. A shape grew clearer in the distance, revealing the dugouts he loved. Ian pointed at a base when they approached it. “There's where you pissed before abruptly ending your baseball career. Butterfly effect, you could have been a star if you didn’t,” Ian joked.</p><p>Mickey chuckled, “Nah, fucked for life. Knew it then, know it now.”</p><p>Ian abruptly stopped, shivering as snow began to fall once again. “You don’t mean that Mick.”</p><p>Mickey had walked a couple more steps before he realized Ian wasn’t next to him. He turned back around to face him.</p><p>“Course I do. Son of a drug runner who hasn’t amounted to much more. Stuck with a wife and kid I didn’t want. Guy I came out for and almost got killed over left me. I’m lucky I’m not in jail and that’s fucking that. You though? You’re not fucked, no matter what that job says to you,” Mickey shuddered as the wind picked up, wrapping his arms tighter around him. “You’re going to be an EMT, saving lives. Being better than the rest of us.”</p><p>Ian walked to Mickey, placing his finger under his chin and lifting his head. He looked down at the shorter man. “You're making the best out of it. You’re raising Yev, who adores you now. Svetlana and you get along a lot better, against all fucking odds. I’m the one that fucked up, I always fuck up. I’m sorry, Mick. You took care of me and I punched you in the face in return. Ran off and left you afterwards. I was lucky to have you. Still am, maybe it doesn’t seem like much but having you there in my corner, telling me to lie because it’s not their business means a lot. You didn’t have to help me, hell I didn’t deserve it for sure. But you’ve been there during all of it, since day one. Protecting me, no matter what.”</p><p>Mickey eyes widened at the contact, forcing a gasp out of him. The weed was making Ian feel more loose as he spoke. He didn’t know why they weren’t together again, besides his whole stubbornness. The same stubbornness that led to the breakup, attempts at pushing Mickey away, and even dating another man. He lifted his other hand, before laying it over Mickey’s heart.</p><p>He won’t hurt him again, he promised himself, face breaking out into a small grin over it. He leaned forward, bumping their noses. Mickey was practically holding his breath now, gazing up at Ian. Their foreheads rested against each other.</p><p>Mickey chuckled, nosing his face closer to Ian’s as he quietly huffed out, “Big ol’ fucking softie.”</p><p>The two stayed like this, just soaking up the feelings that came with being so close to each other. Ian wasn’t sure how long it had been, feeling plenty of effects from both the weed and the other man’s presence.</p><p>~</p><p>Mickey didn’t give a fuck what all had happened in the past. There was no way his life was supposed to keep getting tangled up with Ian’s if the pair of them weren’t damn soulmates or something. He knew that idea made him sound like a pussy, but he didn’t care as he gazed up at Ian.</p><p>The man had rested their foreheads together, noses touching. The weed was causing Mickey to absorb every bit of the touch. All of his skin felt on fire despite the raging freeze from the snow and wind. He loved it. Loved everything about the moment. He’d go through all the pain again if it led to this very moment, he vowed.</p><p>His eyes were locked with Ian’s, the distance feeling more electric by the second. He wasn’t sure if he was breathing or not now, his body feeling overloaded just by proximity. He wanted to pause this moment in time and enjoy it for the rest of his life. He suddenly couldn’t take it though, wanting more of Ian. Always wanting more of Ian. He closed the small distance, causing their lips to touch. Ian made a noise of surprise, something Mickey both understood and didn’t, considering how close they’d been the whole time.</p><p>He pushed forwards, turning his head to the side as Ian kissed him back. It felt so natural, like they’d never stopped. Their mouths moved together perfectly, having had a lot of practice despite years of resistance from Mickey. He smiled into the kiss as happiness practically bursted from him. Ian opened his mouth and Mickey pushed back towards him even more. He didn’t think he’d ever get enough of Ian, as he gasped for air into the kiss.</p><p>His arms were clutching the taller man and he felt that he’d fall if he left go. His knees were so weak, was it from his high or from Ian? He didn’t know, but he also didn’t care. He was tempted to drop to them now so he could touch more of Ian with his mouth, but the taller man stopped this idea by suddenly clutching Mickey, practically holding him up. He wondered if it was because he knew what he was thinking or if Ian could barely stand up either.</p><p>Ian suddenly pulled back. The two of them were breathing heavily, but both grinning widely. Mickey opened his mouth to speak, but laughed first, “Fucking missed that Gallagher, you have no idea.”</p><p>Ian threw his head back as snowflakes landed on his face. They dotted his face before melting, almost as if they were becoming more freckles. The freckles that had faded but Mickey knew were still there from how close he’d been earlier. He had spent years memorizing those freckles, admiring the ones on his face and tracing the ones on his body. Ian brought his hands to his mouth, breathing out air into his hands as he shivered. Mickey hadn’t realized it before, buthe had also been practically shaking from the cold. He doubted either of them were that aware of it before, too lost in the moment.</p><p>Mickey reached out with one hand to grab the back of Ian’s head, “Come on. I got blankets. Let’s spread them out and look at fucking stars.”</p><p>Ian grinned in such a way that Mickey knew he also remembered the last time Mickey had said that while they were here.</p><p>They reached the car after walking for a couple of minutes. Mickey opened the driver’s side door and dug around behind the seat to grab blankets he had spotted there in the past. Once he pulled them out, he walked towards the back of the car where Ian opened the truck bed. They threw one down before climbing in, and used the rest to cover themselves. Mickey had his head rested on Ian’s arm while Ian wrapped that same arm up to Mickey’s hair and ran his hand through it in short strokes. He didn’t have much ability to move, but it felt fucking amazing anyway.</p><p>They laid their for a while, eyes closed, before Mickey broke the silence, quietly saying, “Look, if we do this again, we’re doing it by my fucking book. No more getting pissy if I worry about you, no cheating, no fucking running off. You’re taking your meds and you’re going to fucking like it.”</p><p>Ian chuckled softly, leaning to kiss Mickey’s forehead, “Okay, Mick. We’re doing this.”</p><p>~</p><p>The pair turned to look at each other. Ian moved his head down Mickey’s neck, placing delicate kisses on his skin as he went. Mickey sighed happily, before nuzzling Ian’s head towards his mouth. Ian leaned over Mickey before lowering himself down to place a soft kiss on his lips. More comforting than words could have been at that moment.</p><p>Their lips continued to lazily brush against each other, slow and soft, before Mickey pressed himself up and transformed the pressure into a much more heated and passionate kiss. Mickey pushed his tongue against the seam of Ian’s lips, before slotting their lips together when Ian responded by opening his mouth. He could tell Mickey was getting desperate for more, feeling him squirm beneath him. He tasted smoke and mints, but didn’t find the combo unpleasant. It felt familiar, tasted like Mickey always had.</p><p>Mickey exhaled through his nose, before groaning as Ian deepened the kiss even more. They were saying so much more than they could ever do with words. He knew the style, knew Mickey was saying ‘I love you’ and ‘I missed you’ without speaking a word.</p><p>After what felt like hours, Ian wasn’t sure exactly how long but the snow had slowed to a stop, melting on the blankets but never quite soaking through, the two finally pulled away.</p><p>Mickey rested their foreheads together like before, brushing his nose up against Ian’s in an affectionate nuzzle.</p><p>Ian grinned before quietly singing,</p><p>"<em>And being apart ain't easy on this love affair</em><br/>
<em>Two strangers learn to fall in love again</em><br/>
<em>I get the joy of rediscovering you</em><br/>
<em>Oh, boy, you stand by me</em><br/>
<em>I'm forever yours, faithfully</em>."</p><p>Mickey laughed loudly, body shaking next to Ian’s. “Save the fucking song, you pussy. Always ruining the moment.”</p><p>The two grinned at each other, body wrapped around each other as they absorbed what had happened and what it meant. They were together again, through thick and thin, they always found their way back. No matter how unlikely it seemed, Ian was never letting go again. He just wanted Mickey to know that. He leaned down to peck Mickey’s lips again, before he laid back to stare at the stars with him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Svetlana's chapter was written in her POV which is why she messes up an English saying (Cards she was dealt= cards from her dealer).  It's also why she says related souls instead of soulmates, and lastly Svetlana canonly mentions wanting to own a Quiznos and honestly the line is ridiculous but I love that too much to leave it out lol. </p><p>I have no idea what stripclub Fiona actually went to, Paulie's is a real one in Chicago and the name is just so fun.</p><p>And in case you didn't know, the title comes from Faithfully by Journey &lt;3<br/>Living on a Prayer is by Bon Jovi and neither song belong to me clearly. </p><p>From AO3 terms of service by the way!:  <br/>Epigraphs and short quotations, including quotations from song lyrics and poetry, are allowed. Content that is set within or draws on an existing work is allowed. Reproductions of entire copyrighted works—whether songs, poems, transcripts, or other material—are not allowed without the consent of the copyright owner.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Sleep No More</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A cry ran through the house, causing Mickey to groan. Yevgeny never cried this much, the kid was almost too quiet normally. He didn’t even know that was a thing to worry about, but it apparently was. Nothing wrong with him, just didn’t like to talk unless he had to. He’d proven already he was plenty fucking smart, occasionally switching between Russian and English when he did talk.</p><p>The wail became louder. Yet, here he was. Crying as if he wasn’t spoiled all the time. Mickey reached for his pillow, throwing it over his head. He yelled, “Svetlana! Kid!”</p><p>A sleepy voice replied, clearly muffled by it’s own pillow. “Svet’s not here,“ a big yawn interrupted. “‘Ou’re at my place, Mick.”</p><p>Mickey let out a frustrated noise, remembering he was in Ian’s bed. Oh yeah, Debbie’s kid, Franny. She was always crying, probably upset she was named after the dead beat of a father named Frank. He’d cry too if someone tried to name him Terry Junior. He was actually surprised, he realized, that Terry hadn’t thought of naming a kid after himself.</p><p>He pried his eyes open, squinting at the harsh sunlight coming in. Arms were loosely wrapped around him, a sign of where he was that he’d missed earlier in his groggily sleepy induced state. Even back when Svet and him shared a bed, before Ian came back after the wedding, they never willingly touched. He nestled back into Ian, who tightened his hold instinctively. He pushed his hips back, feeling Ian’s-</p><p>The screams continued suddenly, causing Mickey to throw his pillow off his head, landing on Ian with a sleepy but startled, “Eh, watch it!”</p><p>He threw back the covers in frustration, momentarily getting caught in them as he flailed his legs. He heard Ian make an amused noise from behind him. Fucker. Once freed, he rolled out of bed and stomped towards Debbie’s room. When he got there he tore the door open, only to be met with Debbie’s surprised face.</p><p>“Hand me the kid,” he grinded out through his teeth.</p><p>Debbie’s eyes flashed with anger before she softened her hold on Franny and passed her to Mickey. He bounced her like he did to calm Yev down, his own anger from lack of sleep settling down as he peered at Franny. Kid was fucking cute, red hair already noticeable on her head. She looked just like Debbie and Ian, not holding an ounce of the kid Debbie had been seeing.</p><p>Honestly though, Mickey didn’t even know who Debbie's baby daddy was since Ian dumped him before she got herself knocked up. Dirk? Maybe or maybe she’d already moved on, most of the Gallaghers seem to jump to the next body without giving themselves even time to process a breakup.</p><p>Franny’s damn lungs were going to collapse at the rate she was going. Mickey hollered over her, “You making enough damn milk? Svetlana mentioned that.”</p><p>Debbie glared at him. “I know what I’m doing!”</p><p>“Clearly fucking not, Pippi Longstockings, or she’d have shut her hole by now,” he bit back. He liked Debbie, always liked how sassy she was, though it was slowly transforming to full blown anger. Anger directed at him currently, which he wasn’t going to put up with if she kept it up. She may have some redheaded Gallagher charm but she was no Ian Gallagher.</p><p>Finally the combined powers of the two of them got Franny to quiet down, that or she just cried herself to sleep. Either way, she wasn’t making a fucking peep. Debbie threw her head back on the mattress, eyes filled with tears. He stared, unsure what to do before muttering, “Don’t worry. Yev’s made it this far with a prostitute ma and a drug dealing pops, she’ll be fine off. There’s like a hundred of you fucker’s to help, a whole damn village from your siblings alone.”</p><p>Debbie’s exhausted look morphed into one of disgust. “Yeah, well a certain sibling of mine wanted me to kill her so clearly not.”</p><p>Mickey absolutely did not fucking want to be dealing with this, especially at the asscrack of dawn. “Look, kid, that was before Franny had a face or name. It’s not like Fiona is going to punt her into traffic. You could be a whole lot worse off.”</p><p>For example. She could be a closeted gay kid forced to marry a woman and raise a baby he thought he hated. Even he wasn’t going to say that though, Debbie was a kid. A kind of stupid kid sometimes, but she still made dramatic kid choices and pushing Fiona away after getting herself pregnant was one of them.</p><p>Debbie didn’t reply, probably realizing that arguing with Mickey wasn’t going to get her anywhere. He wasn’t exactly known for being a pushover. He laid a sleeping Franny down on the bed beside Debbie before remarking, “Look, I gotta go. Ian’s big day. Gonna pack him lunch. If you decide all the Gallaghers combined isn’t enough, see what Svetlana can do. She likes pissing Fiona off anyway, think she’s jealous of V and her.”</p><p>Debbie cracked a smile, whispering to avoid bothering her daughter. “Thanks, Mick. Glad you’re back.”</p><p>~~</p><p>Despite his excitement, he had struggled to get out of bed. Mickey had disappeared first, before he suddenly heard Franny calm down. After their first go at not so nuclear family with Svet and Yev, Ian was proud to see that Mickey had really been forced to step up even more during his absence. He hated to think of their time apart, but at least it had led to some good for each of them. He wondered if it was almost meant to be, as if each of them being separated just made them both step up. He snuggled back in bed, enjoying the last few minutes of peace and quiet before he had to begin the day. He’d probably need it after his first day on the job.</p><p>His alarm eventually went off, forcing him out of bed. He bounced down the stairs, ready to tackle the day. He felt refreshed, partially due to the job and partially due to Mickey spending the night. It had taken a bit of time to officially start his EMT job, since he needed to still apply and wait to hear from them. After his diagnosis he never thought this would happen. He turned the corner to spot Lip, Fiona, Sean, and Mickey in the kitchen. They all were scurrying around, just beginning their day. He heard Lip comment, “Glad I moved back home. Wouldn’t want to miss this.”</p><p>Lip grabbed the milk from the fridge as Fiona walked past him and remarked, “Sounds like a hunger cry. Debs might not be producing enough milk. She might need to supplement with formula. Someone should tell her.”</p><p> </p><p>Sean poured coffee in Fiona’s mug as Ian planted a kiss on the side of Mickey’s head. Mickey grinned big as he continued to throw together a couple of sandwiches. He heard Sean say to Fiona, “Not you?”</p><p>“It’s none of my business. She’s made that abundantly clear.”</p><p>Mickey took a bite of one of the sandwiches he made, before answering, “Already told her. Even volunteered Svet to help.”</p><p>Fiona’s nose turned up at the mention of Svetlana. “She’s not sleeping, eating, showering. Svetlana going to help with that?”</p><p>Mickey bit back, “I don’t know why she couldn’t. Already watching Yev. Watches the Ball babies all the time too. Wasn’t Little Orphan Annie up there watching a whole daycare of kids when she was practically their age? Svetlana’s at least a whole ass adult.”</p><p>Ian piped up, “Mick and I could even help. As long as Debs is okay with it. I was Team Franny from the start so she may listen, with some extra nudging from me. Didn’t realize how busy I’ve been lately, should have already offered some help.”</p><p>Fiona turned to Lip and Ian, defeat in her voice. “You’ve been busy with Svetlana’s issues going on. I wish she’d just let one of you hold the baby.”</p><p>Lip walked back towards the fridge, milk judge in hand. “Maybe she’s got that postpartum thing. You know, when girls go feral in corners and gouge anyone’s eyes out who get too close.”</p><p>Fiona picked up her wedding book and coffee, deciding she was done with the Debbie talk.</p><p>“What are those little things called, that guys wear at weddings? The flower things?”</p><p>She was in last minute wedding planning mode, as Sean and her picked a date that wasn't too far off. Still gave her way more time to prepare than the last. Ian almost felt like he couldn’t keep up with his siblings' lives, feeling confused each day by new changes. He wasn’t surprised to hear Fiona was getting divorced, but the engagement at the divorcement really threw him for a loop. She walked out of the room, while Sean followed.</p><p>Mickey walked up to him, coffee cup in hand, as Ian sat down at the table. “So, nervous for your big day?”</p><p>Lip shoved a spoonful of cereal in his mouth as he sleepily watched their interaction. Ian grinned as Mickey put the cup in front of Ian, before walking back to the counter. Ian replied, “ No, no. Excited mostly. Figured I’d be a janitor the rest of my life.”</p><p>Lip chimed in, “Still gonna be cleaning up vomit and dumping garbage. Just in a fancy fucking uniform.”</p><p>Ian bit back, still salty from their last fight over his job, “Better pay, too.”</p><p>A new tin lunchbox with The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles on the front of it thudded down on the table in front of Ian. “Check it out. Turkey sandwich, chips, an apple, and a treat. Swiped the lunchbox from Yev. Now go save lives.”</p><p>Ian stood up and leaned down towards Mickey, He grabbed his face and landed a quick peck on his lips. Mickey smiled into the quick kiss that ended too quickly as Ian pulled away. He walked towards the sink to throw his coffee mug into it, before throwing a quick goodbye as he left for his job, a smile beaming from his face.<br/>
~~</p><p>The last two months or so had been an interesting time. All was fucking great in Mickey’s love life, since Ian and him had once again rekindled their relationship. The last break had felt permanent and yet they had fought through hell and made it out together. Mickey figured at a point the universe was going to have to stop fucking with them, and he was hoping that point was now.</p><p>He had spent the night at The Hotel Gallagher last night, but that was a rare and clearly fucking unpleasant occasion. Usually Svet kept them at the Milkovich house, determined to be a ball and chain. She’d relaxed her hold on the leash a bit as immigration stepped back. They had almost no case to build against Svet, besides her entering the country in a damn shipping crate. Didn’t mean everything had gone without a damn hitch though.</p><p>Their marriage had lasted over two years already, and they had a kid together. Immigration basically said if they were faking it, which they were, it was a really dedicated attempt. Of course, her entering the country illegally was still a huge fucking issue that almost got her sent back until more damn paperwork was completed. The weepy tears from Yevgeny and her combined helped get that waived though.</p><p>She did get taken in to immigration holding for a bit, leaving a completely unprepared Mickey and Ian to watch Yevgeny by themselves. Mickey was plenty used to having to watch the kid when he was pawned off on him, but being his sole guardian was not a fucking walk through the park.</p><p>The first few nights Yevgeny had basically pulled a fucking Franny and whimpered through the night. They had taken turns helping him fall back asleep. After the first night he had crawled into bed between the two men and tapped Mickey on the leg. “<em>Strashnyy son</em>.”</p><p>Mickey groaned and rolled away from the noise until another tiny, and yet fucking irritating tap touched his leg again. He heard a soft childlike voice in the dark. “Nightmare.”</p><p>About that time, Ian and his giant teddy bear demeanor lazily scooped Yev into his arms and hugged him to his chest. No matter what had gone down, he knew Ian had missed the hell out of that kid. He watched Yev snuggle close, already reacquainted with the man after not knowing how to react to him when he first showed back up.</p><p>Thankfully they survived, with the help of both Sandy and Mandy, and Svetlana was released. Yevgeny shrieked at the sight of his mother and came barreling through the living room to be scooped up into her arms. Mickey let himself soak up the view of his son enjoying a moment in his childhood, remembering how rare those were during his own. Thanks to fucking Terry a scene between Mickey’s mom and him like that was completely fucking alien, since nobody wanted to risk his wrath over something as small as a hug. The scene and memory combined did something to his heart, pulling some kind of fucking cord.</p><p>Pulling open the front door, he pushed the memories back. He had walked home to make sure there was no surprise visit still, since Ian was at work anyway. They seemed to basically give up on that front, finding the house to be very obviously lived in. Their stuff was everywhere, making it easy to see how they coexisted there together, especially considering it appeared they slept together. This was probably the only good thing about how fucking beat down and cluttered the Milkovich house was.</p><p>The real current living arrangements were Svetlana in one room, while Mickey and Ian split another that more or less held clutter from other Milkoviches. Sandy crashed on the couch, though she had slinked off somewhere for the night. Iggy and Colin were still shacked up elsewhere. At least for now.</p><p>Mickey opened the bedroom door to see Svetlana’s lazy ass was still in bed with Yevgeny curled up next to her with his thumb in his mouth. Since she had been back Yevgeny had basically refused to part from her, scared that his mom was going to disappear again. Little old to be sucking his thumb too, but eh, he wasn’t going to beat it out of him like his old man did.</p><p>Though he knew Svet really didn’t sleep in much, he still picked up a pillow from the floor and hit her in the face with it. “Yo, Black Widow, get up. I got a favor to ask.”</p><p>Svetlana practically darted up, glaring at Mickey. Her hair was messy and wild, pieces of it hanging in her eyes while others stuck up. Her accent was thick with sleep. “Absent husband, you are back. I do not appreciate the wake up though.”</p><p>She practically growled the sentence, but her yawn afterwards made her seem more tired than willing to fight.</p><p>“Yeah well, I haven’t appreciated most of the time I’ve known you so.”</p><p>She threw the covers back, settling Yevgeny in a more comfortable position before following Mickey out. Before she could ask what he needed, they both noticed Sandy and a strange man standing in the living room.</p><p>Sandy nodded towards him. “Um, this is Lester from USCIS. I don’t know what that, uh, means but he insisted he was coming in.”</p><p>Well, he thought they had given up, but guess not. Svetlana opened her mouth to reply but Mickey cut her off. “It’s immigration, Milk.”</p><p>Lester began to walk around the house, introducing himself to Mickey. “Agent Lester Hibbert. Just a routine mandatory check to see if the living situation is as reported. We haven’t done a routine unannounced check yet.”</p><p>Svetlana stepped aside. “Quiet, baby is sleeping, but yes you may walk around home.”</p><p>“Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Milkovich. I have your permission to look around at your personal belongings?”</p><p>Mickey rolled his eyes. “Just get to it, we have nothing to fucking hide.”</p><p>After about ten annoying fucking minutes of Lester walking around the house, poking at all their belongings, he finally sat down in the living room to ask the pair questions. They had answered these same fucking questions in the past, but clearly they were trying to find a hole in their story. Lester whipped out a notepad, before immediately grilling him. “So Mr. Milkovich when did you first realize you were in love with Mrs. Milkovich?”</p><p>Mickey strained to hold back a frown, instead keeping his face stoic. He wasn’t going to pretend to be a whole new person for this. “She was a friend of my sisters. Was hanging out at home with a friend when she walked into the house. Love at first fucking sight, I guess.”</p><p>And by that he meant he was getting fucked by Ian when his soon to be prostitute of a wife came in.</p><p>“<em>Da, glaza na lob vilezli</em>. It’s when your eyes climb onto your head. This happened to me then.”</p><p>He turned towards Sandy’s direction, who was peeking at the three of them from the kitchen. “You the sister in the situation?”</p><p>Sandy scoffed. “Nah, just the cousin crashing on the couch.”</p><p>He sighed, turning his attention back to Svetlana. “And Mrs. Milkovich, when did you realize you were in love with Mr. Milkovich?”</p><p>She smiled, grabbing Mickey’s hand to hold as she tilted her head to gaze longingly at him.</p><p>“First time I saw him. We met that day but he was in Alibi bar beforehand. Saw him across the room. When we first talk at home I forget English, I say ‘<em>u tyebya krasivyye glaza</em>’ because his eyes distract me so much.”</p><p>Lester continued writing. “And when did you decide to get married and have a family?”</p><p>Svetlana leaned against Mickey, who reluctantly put his hand around her waist, before she responded, “Like I said, love at first sight. We marry a couple of months later, young and in love. Married for a few years, have son. Yevgeny. Blessing.”</p><p>Lester shut his notebook. “Well, your individual interview answers lineup for the most part. And your joint interview has been credible. I’ve been at the job eight years, never seen a set-up quite like this.”</p><p>Mickey practically growled. “Okay, so we passed?”</p><p>“‘I’ll review your documents, follow through with family and friends. Few more follow-up visits-“</p><p>“A few more? We have a fucking kid together, for Christ’s sake. Didn’t pop him to play pretend house,” Mickey cut him off.</p><p>Lester stood up. “It’s all part of protocol. No worries, you have nothing suspicious on record. Just a bitchy wife,” He reached his hand out to Mickey. “Lovely meeting you, Mr. Milkovich. Mrs. Milkovich.”</p><p>Mickey shook his hand, watching Lester read the words on his fingers.</p><p>~~</p><p>Ian ducked under the garage door, following Rita as she showed him around his new job.</p><p>“People are pretty swell around here. I don’t hire assholes,” they passed a sleeping man. “Except for this guy.”</p><p>She beat on the metal lockers behind him, startling him awake.</p><p>The once sleeping man jumped from his perch, following the pair before warning Ian. “Don’t let her near your lunch. She goes apeshit over salty snacks.”</p><p>Rita shouted suddenly, addressing the whole room. “Listen up, crew! This is Ian Gallagher, our new trainee. The only person besides me to get a perfect score on both the written and the practical. Act civilized so he’ll stick around.”</p><p>His new coworkers all reacted differently, one girl waved her hands and another exclaimed in a half joking half happy way, but overall they all seemed excited to have Ian there, helping his slight nerves settle.</p><p>Rita continued, walking towards the lockers. “Uh.. label and date your food, please,” She stopped in front of a locker, motioning towards it. “This is your locker. Uniform’s inside. If it doesn’t fit, let me know. Napping cots are around back, and we’ll hit the wagon in about twenty for rig check. Don’t be late.”</p><p>Ian beamed, turning towards his locker. He never thought the same scrap of metal that he had in high school would bring him so much happiness. His own locker, which had his name and ‘trainee’ written underneath it. He opened it to peer in, immediately digging the only object out of his bag he needed to christen it as his own. His hand pulled out a photo of Mickey and him, which he taped inside. There, perfect.</p><p>After the twenty minute wait, which Ian spent introducing himself to his new coworkers, he showed back up for the rig check. Rita immediately put Ian to work as she sat outside the ambulance, directing him. He spoke, carefully checking each part of the emergency vehicle. “Oxygen tanks are full, defib has fresh batteries, gas is at ninety percent.”</p><p>Rita checked off her list, “Linens?”</p><p>He knocked on the part of the vehicle that held the linens. “Right there.”</p><p>“Restraints?”</p><p>“Are in the gurney.”</p><p>“What’s left?”</p><p>Ian paused, standing up from his crouched position in the ambulance.</p><p>“I can’t think of anything. Uhm, jeez, what’d I miss?”</p><p>She pointed towards a switch, which Ian flipped causing the sirens to go off. Both of their faces transformed into childlike grins.</p><p>She chuckled. “That’s a kick, huh? I remember my first time flipping that switch. My heart skipped, I was like,” she took a deep breath. “I’m here. You know?”</p><p>Ian continued to grin at her, though it had changed to a more content smile. She pointed at him, maintaining her instructions. “You make it a habit and you make it quick. One of the top five rookie errors is taking too long with rig checks.”</p><p>Ian moved towards the opened doors where Rita was to exit, pausing to ask, “What’re the other four?”</p><p>“Being too detailed in your reports, using a bag vale mask improperly, not learning the names of your patients, and not going out to drinks with the crew after your first shift. You will be counting on these people. You gotta build trust.”</p><p>Suddenly his radio buzzed in. “Station fourteen, Car twenty-eight. Stroke. Patient is non-responsive. Can you copy?”</p><p>Rita nodded towards Ian. “Go ahead.”</p><p>Ian clicked the button, feeling satisfaction swell in his body, before lifting it and leaning his head down towards it to say. “Station fourteen copy. Standing by for ten-twenty.”</p><p>He exited the vehicle then, following Sue as she informed him. “It’s a nursing home call. We get about five per day,” She slammed the back doors closed. “Meet you later for drinks, and bring your girlfriend.”</p><p>Ian hesitated. “Boyfriend, I’m gay.”</p><p>Rita turned around right before the locker room. “Well, bring your boyfriend then. No one gives a shit. Have fun with the grannies.”</p><p>Everyone rushed to action around him, his sleeping coworker whose name he still didn’t know threw Ian his jacket while the same girl from earlier jogged past him, brushing his shoulder. He tossed on his jacket, flexing his shoulders, and jogged towards the ambulance. He was ready.</p><p>~~</p><p>Being at the Gallagher house without Ian was fucking weird. He wanted to see him after his first day though, but Ian didn’t get off until at least fucking three am. Franny’s crying kept him awake though, preventing even a cat nap while he waited. He was definitely going to have to get Svetlana over here to figure this the fuck out.</p><p>The rest of the Gallaghers would agree, as they were all shoved together in the living room at three a.m. They were all equally sleep deprived, talking amongst themselves with heavy eyes as Mickey practically melted into the recliner. He had them tuned out, mostly because he could barely keep his head up and yet couldn’t fucking go to sleep from the wails if he tried, until he heard Fiona address him. “Mickey, god. I hate to say it, but please get Svetlana over here to figure out how to get more food into that baby.”</p><p>He looked up, eyes passing over Lip smoking a cigarette before landing on Fiona. She had bags under her eyes. He nodded, not wasting any energy on words.</p><p>Fiona sat her beer down. “Has she let anyone hold her yet?”</p><p>Lip and Mickey nodded as Frank responded, “Yeah.”</p><p>Her mouth dropped, as she gasped. “All three of you?”</p><p>Sean walked downstairs at that time, stopping to address the group. “Gang’s all here. Must be infant-fucked-us-o’clock.”</p><p>Lip passed another cigarette to Mickey, who lifted it and replied, “Yeah, three o’ fucking clock to be exact.”</p><p>He zoned out as Frank and Sean started arguing, trying to blink the sleep away. What was up with the Gallagher banging people their parent’s age? I mean, sure Frank and Monica together probably caused a lot of daddy and mommy issues but so did Terry and he wasn’t fucking ancient men. His mind drifted to the time he beat the shit out of Ned before smirking. Completely had it coming.</p><p>The front door opened, revealing Ian who was sporting an adorable beanie as he exclaimed, “Hey-yo!”</p><p>Mickey raised his head, hoping Ian would come to him so he didn’t have to move. Ian’s siblings all excitedly greeted their brother as Ian hugged and clasped hands with them. He sat down on the edge of Mickey’s seat as Frank passed him a blunt. He inhaled and leaned down to ruffle Mickey’s hair, who scowled but leaned his head against Ian’s side, muttering, “How was your first day, big shot?”</p><p> </p><p>He spoke around the blunt. “A little hectic, but I did good,” he looked at Mickey as he pulled the blunt from his own lips and pressed it against Mickey’s, causing him to smile. “Rita and the crew wanna meet you for drinks tomorrow.”</p><p>Debbie appeared in the kitchen, carrying a silent Franny. If the rest of the clan looked tired, Debbie looked near death. She sleepily grinned at the sight of her favorite brother, a feeling Mickey understood well.</p><p>He knew he had to get out of there, before he crashed on their couch for the night, he pulled Ian into a hug. “Come over tonight. When you’re done here. Love you.”</p><p> </p><p>Ian rested his chin on Mickey’s shoulder, before leaning his head against him while he hugged him back. “Alright, meet you there.” Ian snuck in a quick peck to the lips, causing Mickey to dreamily smile. Something he’d deny if Lip used it for bait later.</p><p>He snuck out the door as the Gallaghers surrounded Franny, pausing to watch Ian scoop the baby out of Debbie’s arms. Ian was definitely dad material.</p><p>~~</p><p>Debbie sat at the counter, nursing Franny while she tried to do her schoolwork. Her eyes felt heavy. Franny was a nightmare to get to sleep at night, waking up both Debbie and the whole house last night. She kept blinking, trying to stay awake, as she mumbled out loud, “Ventures into the region of wonder,” she flipped a couple of pages. “Gets challenged.”</p><p>She felt her eyes close, blinking them awake before they completely shut and she dozed off.</p><p>...Only to be shaken awake. She opened her eyes to see Svetlana, holding Franny. Debbie blinked down as she still expected to see her daughter resting in her arms. The sleep deprivation caused her to not quite understand why Svetlana was standing there with her baby. Was it a dream?</p><p>“She is okay now, but you drop small baby.”</p><p>Debbie gasped, tears forming at her eyes. “I’m a terrible mother. I dropped my baby. I can’t stop her from crying, I can’t even feed her enough.”</p><p>Svetlana motioned towards Franny, who Debbie only just then noticed was latched onto a bottle that Svetlana was holding. “No milk, you supplement. Things you must learn. You care, that is the start of a good mother.</p><p>She felt a hand on her forehead. “Fever in your head. Breast tender, yes?” Debbie nodded so Svetlana confirmed her suspensions. “Clogged duct.”</p><p>She continued to stare at Svetlana, who might as well be her hero. She didn’t want Fiona’s help, not wanting to feel like a failure. “Um. What do I do?”</p><p>“Warm compress, ibuprofen. Milk will come. Now, you go to bed. Sleep. I will babysit the small carrot girl.”</p><p>Debbie stood up. “What about your kid?”</p><p>Svetlana motioned behind her, where Yevgeny sat on the couch. “I can watch two at once. No problem. I will warm up wet towel, you lay down. Will bring it to you with medicine. Sleep then you can be mother. No female can be good mother without any sleep.”</p><p>Debbie walked up the stairs, before holding back. “How do you do it? Aren’t you a single mom too?”</p><p>Svetlana smirked. “Yes and no. Husband help, now. He even help you. His family help, Ian, Sandy, Mandy, even Iggy sometimes. Family is good to rely on. Sleep now.”</p><p>She turned back around, rushing up the steps.</p><p>~~</p><p>“Okay, wait, so you don’t cut the jacket for an IV access?”</p><p>His sleeping coworker from earlier, Woody, answered, “No, not if it’s leather or down. Leather’s too hard to cut down. You’ll be putting feathers out of the rig for months.”</p><p>“Got it.”</p><p>Woody clasped his hand on his back before replying, “Nap time! I'll see you in twenty, okay?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Ian answered as he walked towards the locker room.</p><p>Ian opened his locker, pulling out the lunchbox that Mickey had once again packed. Who knew he was going to turn into such a housewife? Ian grinned as he surveyed his meal for tonight, seeing another sandwich. This time on a croissant. He had a feeling Svetlana may have grocery shopped last. Mickey always just bought the cheapest shit and moved on.</p><p>Suddenly, Rita’s voice was behind him. He turned towards her, face still smiling from the lunch. “The results from your background check came in,” He lost the smile quickly. “You voluntarily committed yourself to the Cook County Psych Ward?”</p><p>Her voice was full of accusations. He turned towards her, both pleading and stating. “I’m on medication now.”</p><p>He stood up, wanting to meet her eyes. She asked, voice stone cold compared to earlier, “For?”</p><p>“Bipolar.”</p><p>“You lied on your application?”</p><p>Ian countered. “I got perfect scores on my exams.”</p><p>Rita stood there, looking him dead on in a way that Ian knew wasn’t forgiving. “Did you lie on your certification, too?”</p><p>He ignored that. She knew full well he couldn’t have lied about that, but she was obviously mad.</p><p>“Well, you wouldn’t have hired me if I’d told you the truth.”</p><p>She walked in a circle before crossing her arms, head down and not looking at Ian, he recognized the body language, practically having the same when he cut off Mickey at that time. “You’re firing me.”</p><p>“I can’t have someone on my team I don’t trust.”</p><p>He ran his hand through his hair, before ducking down to lock eyes with Rita. “Shit. It’s paperwork, all right? That shit is meaningless.”</p><p>“We don’t allow people with a documented history of mental illness to work here for a reason,” This time she stared him down, voice raised as she stressed that she clearly believed he was crazy.</p><p>Ian’s voice rose to meet her level, knowing it looked more insane coming from him, but he couldn’t help it. “I’m good at my job because of my illness. I can stop a bipolar kid from jumping through a window on a fucking twenty six call.”</p><p>Rita walked away from Ian, refusing to look at him. He could feel the prying eyes of his coworkers.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I included the bit about Svetlana almost being sent back because it's more realistic to what would happen if they had realized she was in the country illegal. It's so shitty, but I've seen similar situations. It did give some Yev bonding too! </p><p>Woody and June are actually Ian's coworkers names. I kept pausing any scene their nametags were visible in until I could see the names on there. I don't think I've ever seen this mentioned in a fic but I wanted to keep it as canon as possible (even if I originally made up names that seemed more fitting lol).</p><p>Translations:<br/>strashnyy son' is nightmare.<br/>‘u tyebya krasivyye glaza' is something about Mickey's beautiful eyes lol.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Famila Supra Gallegrious Omina!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>The night before had been rough. He had crashed on his couch earlier when the door was suddenly being beat down by a fist.</p><p>“The fuck,” he groaned. “This better be real fucking important!”</p><p>He yanked it open only for Ian to rush at him. He tossed down the gun he had grabbed to check Ian over out of reflex, hearing it land with a thud on the coffee table.</p><p>“Gallagher?” he rubbed sleep out of his eyes, startled to see his boyfriend without hearing from him first. His arms drifted around him. He wasn’t sure what the hell was happening but any excuse to touch Ian was an excuse he was going to take.</p><p>“They ran a background check, I lost my job Mick,” Ian said, a mix of disappointment and rage flashing in his voice.</p><p>Mickey pushed Ian back, wanting to look at him in the face. “Shit, man. You okay?”</p><p>Ian’s emotions shined across his face, hurt and betrayed the most obvious, but suddenly he clenched his jaw and pushed Mickey onto the couch, before following after him. He clawed his way into Mickey’s laps, hands grabbing at any part of him he could touch.</p><p>“Wha-?” Mickey started to say, before Ian attached his mouth to his, almost immediately deepening the kiss and forcing Mickey’s mouth open.</p><p>Mickey knew that they needed to talk it out, instead of strictly being all physical. That’s how they handled shit in the past, but Mickey wanted to at least attempt at being better than that. They weren’t exactly two horny teenagers anymore.</p><p>That is until Ian reached around and grabbed Mickey’s ass, causing Mickey’s brain to short circuit. He was giving them too much credit before, seeing as teenage-like is exactly how they were acting.</p><p>Ian pulled Mickey’s hips closer, rolling his own. Mickey groaned into his mouth, causing Ian to move his hands from Mickey’s hips to his neck. His hands enveloped Mickey’s face. He loved that shit. At this point he wasn’t arguing anymore in his head no matter the reason as he lifted his hips up for friction. He tilted his head, chasing Ian’s mouth with his own. He licked into his mouth once he connected their lips again, causing a sigh from his own throat.</p><p>Ian pulled back. A desperate whine escaped Mickey’s lips, before he felt hot breath against his neck. Ian leaned forward and licked a strip up to his ear, leaning in to whisper, “Smell the same as before. Drives me crazy. Fucking drives me mad.”</p><p>The overall presence of Ian was doing Mickey in already as a pair of lips connected to his throat.. He rolled his hips again, before getting frustrated at the lack of action. He needed more than that and fucking minutes ago. He reached between them, hands on Ian’s pants as he slowly pushed the button open and painstakingly dragged his zipper down.</p><p>His blood was boiling when he practically broke the door down and Mickey already knew a better place he could direct that blood to flow. Once opened, Mickey reached past Ian’s underwear to pull his cock out. Coherent thoughts were no longer a thing Mickey could form, completing being ruined at the sight of Ian’s dick. He wasted no time spitting into his hand and gripping him, mixing it with precum before he began to jerk Ian off.</p><p>Ian growled before leaning in to catch Mickey’s mouth in a sloppy kiss, teeth clicking as their tongues fought aggressively. He pulled away at a particularly good twist of the wrist, before his head hit Mickey’s shoulder as his breath ghosted against his throat, causing Ian to shutter while his hand worked furiously before slowly down to pay extra attention to his head.</p><p>Ian breathed in harshly, forehead resting on Mickey’s shoulder as he thrusted heatedly into Mickey’s hand. Mickey’s eyes closed as he leaned his head against Ian’s, stroking him while muttering into Ian’s ear.</p><p>He pumped in a steady rhythm, letting Ian’s visible frustrations melt away as Mickey’s hand worked him over quickly while he attempted to hold back strangled noises.</p><p>Ian being so wound up caused him to fall over the edge faster than he normally would. He nuzzled at Mickey’s shoulder, muffling his speech to Mickey about coming before biting into his skin when he finally fell over the edge. He could recognize a mixture of moans and the steady chant of Mickey’s nap, causing Mickey to softly grin as he worked Ian through while come leaked over his hand. The two breathed deeply into each other’s skin, lightly covered in sweat, as they attempted to collect themselves.</p><p>A throat cleared behind them, causing both men to break away. When Mickey’s brain was able to form a thought on its own without Ian’s dick involved, he realized that Ian was sitting on his lap, legs straddling him and dick out. Ian craned his head around, not budging yet from Mickey’s lap while Mickey peaked around Ian. He let go of his dick where his hand was still resting as if it suddenly was on fire. Ian reached for a box of tissues on the end table, wiping down before finally tucking his dick away.</p><p>Svetlana was standing in the room, a robe wrapped around her as her hair stuck up practically everywhere, as it always did when she first woke up. He really didn’t get the appeal in women, Svetlana looked like Medusa when she first woke up. Ian, however, looked like a chiseled god. The whole ‘caught in the act’ by Svetlana scene caused his erection that was previously straining painfully against his jeans to all but deflate. Fucking thanks.</p><p>“It is late at night, what could happen that makes beating my door down okay before receiving handjob on my couch?”</p><p>“Lost my job.”</p><p>Svetlana looked ahead, she raised her eyebrow slightly, taking in the scene that hadn’t happened thanks to her. “Need job? Public Restroom may hire you. You are very pretty redhead, for a boy.”</p><p>Ian turned to look back at Mickey, who shrugged at him. “Hipster fucking bar, man. I don’t know. You gonna give up on the EMT shit?”</p><p>His arms had come to rest on Mickey’s shoulders, his fingers linked behind his neck. Ian looked into his eyes, defeat written on his face. “I got fired, Mick. I lied on my application.”</p><p>“So fight it,” The voice belonged to Svetlana, a person he didn’t expect to be handing out advice to Ian. “They fire you for being crazy? V teach me it is not your fault, so it is bullshit reason.”</p><p>He looked down. Mickey knew Ian was too proud to see it that way. “I still lied. They don’t want me there, and I don’t want to work some place I’m not wanted.”</p><p>“I hate fucking agreeing but Svet is right, that is a bullshit reason. They don’t know what the hell you’ve been through. Fucking pigs.”</p><p>Ian cracked a broken smile. “They’re not cops, Mick. I can’t do anything about it anyway. Just gotta find another job, maybe I’ll see if my old job is hiring.”</p><p>“Which one?” Mickey’s eyes became intense as he looked into Ian’s.</p><p>“Jesus, my janitor job,” he replied.</p><p>Mickey was satisfied with that. He wanted to make sure Ian wasn’t tempted enough to try and strip again, knowing how bad his problems became there. His mind flashbacked to the time Ian’s coworker told him he had left with another man. He had handled it poorly, taking his frustrations out on the man. He knew that he would always have to deal with the knowledge of all the bad that had happened during their time together, and he knew it would probably bother him when he did. He pushed the thought away as Yev walked into the room.</p><p>“E-an?” He said, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and yawning. Mickey’s heart tugged a little, kid was getting cute now that he wasn’t as snotty as before.</p><p>Svetlana brushed her hand through his hair as he leaned against her leg. “Yevgeny, sleep. Papa will be quiet now.”</p><p>Mickey scowled. Yev still didn’t really call Mickey anything, which was damn fine by him. He was fine with caring for Yev, but didn’t know how he felt about being called dad. He didn’t exactly feel like one, just a relative. Ian and his bleeding heart always told him to take the whole situation one day at a time, as if Mickey planned ahead with anything.</p><p>Yev didn't say anything back, which wasn’t out of the normal. He just raised a small hand at Ian. Ian pushed up from Mickey’s lap, earning a noise of annoyance from him. He watched as Ian tried to button his pants without anyone noticing before grabbing Yevgeny up and hoisting him on his hip. He leaned his head against the young boy’s forehead. “Sorry we woke you. I’ll go home soon and get out of your hair,” he rubbed Yevgeny’s blonde locks, causing his hair to stick up wildly as Yevgeny giggled. “I’ll tuck you in!”</p><p>The sight broke Mickey a little. He didn’t expect Ian to be the one to cause him to learn to love Yevgeny, but he was always proving him wrong. Yevgeny leaned against Ian’s shoulders as his eyes drooped slowly.</p><p>“Don’t go,” Mickey said, “Stay?”</p><p>Ian looked at him before nodding, heading towards Mickey’s room with Yevgeny. The kid had learned that Ian was someone that liked cuddling, far more than Svetlana did. He usually weaseled his way between the two men, ruining Mickey’s time as the little spoon.</p><p>He watched as the door shut behind him before turning to Svetlana. She smirked at him. “You fix job situation?”</p><p>He walked towards his door, following Ian, before glancing back. “What do you think?”</p><p>He shut the door behind him as he slowly felt his way to the edge of the bed in the dark. He reached his hand out blindly before he brushed a soft empty surface where he climbed in carefully. Once he made himself comfortable, his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness in the room. He could barely make out Ian’s silhouette before spotting Yevgeny wrapped around him. He was also in the center of the bed, ruining Mickey’s fantasies about being wrapped in Ian’s arms. The pair were a sight that warmed his heart though. He’d still kick Yevgeny out in a heartbeat to sleep with Svet if he thought Ian wouldn’t pout and refuse to cuddle.</p><p>“Mickey?” a soft whisper came from Ian’s side of the bed.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“What’s up with the rainbow shirt? Ready for pride?”</p><p>His face flushed with heat. Caught once again. When Ian and him were still split, he had embarrassingly found Ian’s shirt tucked deep into a drawer. It was mostly white but had an odd watercolor like rainbow painted across the middle. Ugly as fuck, but he could recall a younger smaller Ian wearing it. He knew it was weird, but he ended up sleeping with it tucked against him that night, bringing him some form of temporary comfort. Since then he’d worn in a few times, strictly to bed when he didn’t exactly expect company to be bulldozing his door down.</p><p>“Shut the fuck up,” he mumbled. “It’s your fucking shirt anyway, Strawberry Shortcake. Found it in a drawer. Fits me better so I wore it to bed. Fucking once. Didn’t expect you to show up and wake me the fuck up.”</p><p>Ian let out a soft laugh, concealing it as a soft breath to avoid waking Yev, who was snoring quietly.</p><p>He felt more heat build up in his face, grumbling, “Go the fuck to sleep, Gallagher.”</p><p>“I love you, Mick.”</p><p>Mickey reached over to brush his hand across Ian, just wanting to touch the man he loved. His hand grazed his face, before he laid his hand there gently. “I know. I love you too.”</p><p>Ian leaned over in the dark, lightly placing his lips against Mickey’s soft parting mouth. Only to pull back when Yevgeny grunted in his sleep from being slightly squished. The two laid there, gazing at each other with a smile on their faces before quietly drifting off to sleep.</p><p>~~</p><p>His head hung low, defeated. He had shown back up at his old janitor job and practically begged for his position back. He thought Ron would, after dragging out the little begging fest, but he had been proven wrong with a firm, “Fuck no!”</p><p>He left quickly after that, embarrassed but still in need of a job. He craved the rotation that a job gave him, needing some sense of order in his life. The order allowed him to function, a thing he didn’t feel was happening now.</p><p>He hit the pavements, an action that worked less than every seventy year olds clearly thought. Either they weren’t hiring or they weren’t interested in hiring a guy who showed up out of nowhere, recently fired and with a GED.</p><p>He sighed as he continued his job hunt, walking all across Chicago in the desperate hunt. His feet walked on autopilot, his brain too busy running through potential job ideas. He looked up, surprised and disappointed to realize he was standing outside The Fairy Tail.</p><p>Fuck, what was he doing here? He told Mickey he wouldn’t work here ever again. The place had only led to his downfall, multiple times. He remembered when Mickey had shown back up in his life, completely unexpected. He thought that it was over after Mick got married, so he ran off to join the army. The end of them before they even had a beginning.</p><p>He had spent that day like he did any other at the time, grinding down on another customer. He was barely in his head, having inhaled a bunch of poppers as well as taken whatever else had been offered to him that night. Just a typical night at the club. He was in and out of focus, his body responding from habit. The current guy under him, older, like they all seemed to be, lifted a pill up. Ian craned his head back, tongue out as the guy placed it on his tongue.</p><p>“Times up, lovebirds,” he heard the familiar voice say before he saw him. He turned his head to meet his eyes. “Get up. That means get the fuck up now!”</p><p>He resented him being there at that point, just when he was moving on.</p><p>He hadn’t realized he was already manic at this point, but it would only get worse. He crashed hard, laying in bed for days. Refusing to talk, only to suddenly be on top of the world. Just in time for The Fairy Tail to once again be the place that dragged him back down.</p><p>The pills were too much. The alcohol was too plentiful. His manic was everywhere, he couldn’t believe he was having an episode like Monica. He wanted to believe this high was just normal. He couldn’t control it, not without his medicine or a realization that it wasn’t in fact normal. He was too much at once. Too happy, too horny, too wound up. He cheated on Mickey, Mickey couldn’t keep up with his hunger, he couldn’t get enough of anything or anyone.</p><p>He hated remembering the club, remembering the fucked up past. He did know it was good money though. Against all better judgement, he crossed the street.</p><p>~~</p><p>He would never admit it to Ian if he asked. Didn’t want Ian to think he needed Mickey to throw a punch at someone for his honor.</p><p>That’s not why he was here though. He knew Ian could work his glamour on anyone if he tried. He’d spent years witnessing the very same thing happen to anyone that crossed his path. Including him, as he recalled Ian managing to literally charm the pants off of him even back when he was in full denial about his sexuality.</p><p>They were doing this on Mickey’s terms this time. They’d talked about it, and Mickey’s terms meant Ian’s bipolar issues were going to be taken care of first. Before they spiraled out of control and caused more issues for the pair. Plus Ian has sounded defeated enough that unless a major fucking revaluation happened on his end, he couldn’t see Ian knocking a door down and demanding equal respect.</p><p>He walked up to a little hipster restaurant with servers in fancy fucking ties. He walked towards the side of the building where there was an outside dining area fenced in with tables that had umbrellas open above them. He spotted the group. The group of EMTs in their work uniforms on their break. Ian had invited him to this little jerk off meet up before he’d been let go. Mickey figured it was the best time for a little ambush.</p><p>He strutted right up to the group, who all paused what they were doing as Mickey brooded over their table. There were five of them, but as he scanned their name tags he found the one he was looking for.</p><p>“You Rita?”</p><p>She had a drink in her hand, which was being lifted towards her mouth. She had paused when Mickey walked up but took the sip before answering, “I am," the short response held a lot of aggression behind it. "And you're Ian’s boyfriend. Noticed the photo he had in his locker.”</p><p>He noticed the looks from Ian’s ex-coworkers. He was becoming used to it. People didn’t expect to learn a hardened ‘criminal’ like him was gay. Ian didn’t give off the vibes either, but he wasn’t a surprise to most. Mickey gave off the opposite belief, most expecting him to join Terry in his fag bashing, rather than be the one getting the beat down. He crossed his arms and shot a death glare past Rita at the group, who quickly all worked to wipe the looks off their faces.</p><p>“Yep, and I assume you know why I’m here then?”</p><p>She crossed her arms back and stared Mickey down. It earned her mad respect from him. She was clearly not one to put up with anyone’s bullshit. Her eyes bore down into his before she replied, “And I assume you know he lied on his application?”</p><p>Mickey snorted, "You weren’t there when I watched Ian’s mental health deteriorate. You know, when he went from a devoted teenager with fucking real goddamn aspirations to get out of the southside to disappearing on all of us? Then turned up fucked out of his mind working as a stripper while being underaged? Or when he suddenly wouldn’t get out of bed for days. Laid there in the dark, didn’t eat or talk. Nothing. It took him kidnapping my fucking spawn to get him in a mental health institution.”</p><p>He paused to gauge their reactions. He hated having everyone turned towards him like this, made him think back to his coming out when the whole damn Alibi was looking at him. The group looked at him, clearly interested in more so he continued.</p><p>“And you know what he did? He voluntarily committed himself to the Cook County Psych Ward. Which wasn’t easy, it basically ruined the last little hope for his military career. My baby momma didn’t trust him around Yev, the kid. Crushed him since he loved Yev more than I did. We broke up. He decided he wasn’t taking his meds, but he did what he does best and kept trying to pick his life back up even after shit hit the fan. He got back on meds, got a job as a janitor, we got back together, he’s in Yev’s life again, and then he studied hard on his EMT practicals. Passed with flying fucking colors. Then you,” he pointed at Rita.“tell him that even though he worked hard to better himself again, he still wasn’t good enough because of his disease. A disease that his scum of earth parents gave him, as if they didn’t fuck up his life enough.”</p><p>Rita’s eyes had lowered. She probably knew he had gone through some hardships from it, but it was kinda hard to ignore them when they were all laid out in front of you, “Look, kid. He lied. Company policy comes into effect at that point-“</p><p>Mickey cut her off, “So you were gonna hire him if he marked it right? Going to be different from the rest and not judge him on his mental illness?”</p><p>She sighed as she looked at him. Her groupies started to look uncomfortable with the scene, trying to find something else to look at. Anger bubbled up in him, but he was going to handle it better than he did with Ian’s last coworker. Besides, this one was a girl and he didn’t fucking hit women. Period. He clenched his fists out of frustration instead.</p><p>The moment dragged on as the two of them didn’t say anything. Mickey kept his glare up, staring her down as he looked down at her. She finally broke the silence, “Look. I’ll see what I can do about the policy. I can’t promise anything but I can look into it.”</p><p>He grinned, before trying to look serious again. He looked down at their table and snatched a cookie off a plate, taking a big bit out of it before replying with his mouth full, “Ya ‘ou do tha’,” he swallowed his bite, “because if not I’m a Milkovich, and we aren’t known to be very fucking reasonable.”</p><p>He walked off then, the group staring at him in disbelief.</p><p>~~</p><p>Once inside, Ian headed straight for the bar. Noise was pumping throughout the blue and pink lit club. Bodies were moving rapidly around him. The whole scene was captivating already. Ian felt like the fresh faced army kid who first walked in here. The bar held one bartender, his old coworker Brad. He was very absorbed into his task of wiping clean the bar glasses.</p><p>“Hey Brad.”</p><p>Brad looked up, with a grin on his face, “Hey man.”</p><p>“Hey, is Don here?” Ian felt ashamed as he asked, looking intently around the club.</p><p>Brad paused, “Uh yeah, he’s in the back office.”</p><p>Ian headed off, before Brad’s voice called out behind him, “Hey man, if you’re looking to get your job back Alex just quit and Tony broke his foot falling off the stage.”</p><p>He stopped in the middle of the club. The flashing lights around him made the bodies appear to move more inhumanly. Dancers were on stage like he used to be, some he recognized but some were newly hired after he left.</p><p>He could see the look in people’s eyes. The haze from the alcohol and drugs. The music thudded throughout the building, vibrating the floors. He thought back to his time after quitting. His life then may have felt broken, but he had at least gotten away from this.</p><p>Suddenly, he was standing outside. Safe from the club. He felt like he had transported, not remembering himself running through the exit and pushing the door open so hard it practically flew up. He just stood on the sidewalk. He hadn’t talked to Don, realizing while watching people who looked as out of it as he was back then stumble around, eyes drooped open lazily.</p><p>An ambulance drove past as he stared into the street. He didn’t know if it was a reminder of what he had already messed up or a reminder of where he could be. He kept staring.</p><p>~~</p><p>After his little friendly chat with Ian’s possibly future coworkers who he was happy to say he only slightly threatened with violence, he showed up at Ian’s house.</p><p>He figured Ian would be back from his job hunting soon. Maybe he’d even hear from Rita and come home to celebrate. He was pretty convinced he’d made an impression on the group. He pushed through the front door without knocking to see Carl on the couch.</p><p>“You crashing at my crib now?” Carl jokingly said.</p><p>Mickey threw himself on the couch next to the younger Gallagher. “Nah, the baby mama isn’t about to let that happen a second time. Not with no other Milkoviches to pay bills there.”</p><p>He looked at Carl, who had lost the braids and the bling. His hair was a lot longer than when he went into juvie, all brushed back from his face. He was wearing a button down and some nice jeans. He noticed Mickey checking his new appearance out before laughing, “Hey, man. I got myself a girl now.”</p><p>Mickey laughed. “I’m into tall guys like your alien looking brother, you're fucking shorter than I am.”</p><p>Carl punched him in the arm. “I’m still growing!”</p><p>“Doubt that,” Mickey shrugged him off. “You look different though, man. Good different. How you holding up?”</p><p>Carl’s smile dropped. He hadn’t really gotten a chance to talk to him since he drove Carl to discuss with G-Dogg about getting him out. He shrugged, “Still see that kid in my nightmares sometime, but it’s been okay. Tony’s got me volunteering at the police office in a youth program. Girlfriend’s dad is an officer too, seem to earn brownie points cause of Tony.”</p><p>“That’s good, never thought I’d be thankful for a fucking pig, but Tony’s a pretty good guy.”</p><p>Carl flopped the tv on, screen lighting up to show Reba. Sitcoms always made life seem more fun. He wished the southside was more like that. More fun and games than day to day and parents being loving figures instead of drunk nightmares. The only relatable thing to the show is the dumbass Van made him think of Kev. They were both equally as clueless. He wanted to raise Yev in a house like that. The family was split, but still full of love and no one cowered in fear from the people that were supposed to love them. He’d even take the annoying Van figure if he had to.</p><p>After the episode ended, Carl looked at Mickey, “So you, uh, ever dealt with something that fucked you up like that?”</p><p>He didn’t know what to say at first, unsure how much Ian had told Carl about their relationship before he was out. He replied, “Yeah. Yeah I did.”</p><p>“What’d you do about it?”</p><p>He froze, thinking back to that moment. He didn’t let anyone know how much it kept him up at night. He knew Ian saw it, in moments where he would shake him awake and Mickey would jump as if he was trying to protect Ian like he did that day. Ian didn’t push him to talk about it though, clearly picking up on the fact that Mickey didn’t want to.</p><p>“Mickey?”</p><p>He cleared his throat, “They don’t just go away.”</p><p>The two fell into complete silence, both thinking about the moments that haunted them.</p><p>~~</p><p>His locker door opened, having still not been assigned to anyone else. Any other newbie who’s dreams weren’t crushed because of a mental illness.</p><p>Woody watched him as he took off his jacket and threw it in the locker, before he addressed without looking. “Somebody should probably call Rita.”</p><p>Woody leaned against the locker. “She’s out on a run.”</p><p>He threw on his EMT uniform, buttoning up before responding, “Call her anyway.”</p><p>He only then looked Woody in the eyes, watching as he turned to call Rita. He felt his other coworker, June, leave the room, before he went and sat down in his uniform waiting for Rita to return. Both treating him differently, like they didn’t start to bond over the job before he was let go.</p><p>Nobody bothered him the whole time though, all avoiding the room. He could feel their presence nearby though, he knew they were most likely watching to see what happened.</p><p>Suddenly he saw Rita fast walk as she approached him. “What are you doing Gallagher?”</p><p>Her voice was fed up, he could tell she was annoyed. He replied as directly as he could, trying to keep his voice emotionless, “I want my job back.”</p><p>She began to take off her heavy jacket that went over her uniform. “Yeah, I got that after today.”</p><p>Ian didn’t move from his post. “Then we have a problem because I’m not leaving here until I get my job back.”</p><p>Rita stood across from him, arms crossed and face blank. “I’ve explained it’s the company’s policy-“</p><p>He interrupted, “Company policy is wrong.”</p><p>She breathed deeply. “Do I need to call the police?”</p><p>“Yeah sure. That’s what most people do when they see someone with a mental illness.”</p><p>Rita pointed at him to make a point. “No, you got let go because you lied on your employment application.”</p><p>She turned around and began to walk away, right as Ian called out, “Bullshit.”</p><p>Everyone hovering about the room paused at that note, including Rita. She turned to look at Ian as he stood up and walked towards her calmly. “What do you think I should have done? Would you have hired me if I’d checked that box that said I had a mental illness? What kind of choice is that? Tell the truth, you don’t get the job. Lie, maybe they’ll never find out. What would you do?”</p><p>He continued to stare her down, feeling his eyes water and his voice cracked. “You’d lie.”</p><p>He looked at Woody. “So would you,” then he turned towards June. “So would you. Do you think because I’m bipolar, an illness that I am managing by the way, that I can’t do this job where half the people we deal with are mentally ill, are living on the streets because they can’t get help or are too sick to know they even need help? You wouldn’t refuse to hire me if I was in a wheelchair, if I had a physical handicap or HIV.”</p><p>She looked at him, glassy eyes that showed that some kind of emotion was stirred up behind them. Ian didn’t stop though, he was on an emotional venting roll now. “No, because it is illegal to discriminate against someone who is handicapped, and I…,” he stopped as he felt his voice threaten to give up before collecting himself and finishing.</p><p>“I am handicapped. It’s not my fault. I didn’t do anything to bring this on myself. I have a disease. If I show up one day and I’m acting all freaky then you, or you or you, Rita, you tell me to go home, and I will go. But don’t tell me I can’t do this job.”</p><p>The dispatcher's voice sounded above them as the two peered at each other. “Station 14, Car 29. Auto versus pedestrian. 52nd and Woodland.”</p><p>Ian turned around, before sitting back down on the bench where he started from. The voice continued, “CPD already on scene. Can you copy?”</p><p>Rita’s eyes watched Ian as she clicked her radio to reply, “Station 14, copy. Show us responding,” she motioned towards Woody. “52nd and Woodland. Go.”</p><p>Woody didn’t move. Rita motioned towards June. “Take the call. Go.”</p><p>June has her arms crossed. “After that from them both? We’ll take the call with Ian.”</p><p>He didn’t know what that meant. Them both? His eyes continued to be glassy from tears that threatened to fall at his ex-coworkers words.</p><p>Rita glanced at June before locking eyes with Woody. He nodded. “We’ll go with Ian.”</p><p>She breathed deeply. “Fine, I already looked into our policy when your boyfriend showed up. Go on, then. Go.</p><p>Ian stood up. “Mickey? Mickey talked to you?”</p><p>She motioned her head toward the ambulance as Woody scrambled to grab their supplies. “Got yourself a good one, Gallagher. Go.”</p><p>He rushed to collect what he needed before jumping in after Woody and June and shutting the door. He looked out of it to see Rita. She had her hands in her pockets but looked up at him. He could make out the smallest of smiles.</p><p>~~</p><p>Tugging on his tie, Mickey stood by as he waited for this whole thing to fucking begin. Days had gone by since Ian had gotten his job back, thanks to him, he thought smugly, and now they were at Fiona’s wedding. He stood in an almost matching suit to Ian’s, black like at his own wedding. His hands began sweating out of instinct, especially at the sign of Svetlana in an ugly tight pink dress across from him. He knew this wasn’t his wedding again, but he still felt nervous about the whole arrangement.</p><p>He glanced over as Ian walked up with Lip in their own black suits, before deciding that if he got married again he was wearing white. After Svetlana freed him in two years. Who cares if he wasn’t a damn virgin like the saying went? Since when did Milkoviches care about traditions that didn’t involve drinking anyway.</p><p>Lip was pulling on his own suit jacket and he walked behind Ian to greet Mickey when he smelled the alcohol on the older Gallagher. Mickey’s nose wrinkled up. “You hungover, man? Smells like it.”</p><p>Lip grimaced weakly. “Yeah, late night out.”</p><p>Ian disappeared to grab Fiona, leaving Lip with Mickey. The two stood next to each other, neither really knowing what to say. Mickey knew they both felt kinda similar about each other. Both had grown on the other, but they weren’t about to trade friendship bracelets or anything. Mickey side-eyed Lip, seeing how fucked up his hangover had him. “You sure you're okay, Lip? Look kinda busted up.”</p><p>He waved his hand, trying to look more collected than he was. “Yeah, uh. Just having a rough time. Don’t worry about me,” He turned to meet Mickey’s eyes, “Hey, uh, I’m glad you and Ian worked things out. Worried about him before. You make him happy so....”</p><p>He trailed off as Ian appeared along with the makeshift bridal party behind Fiona. He had Yev’s hand in his as he walked next to Svetlana and him.Yev was dressed in his own kid size tux, proudly grinning as he walked. Mickey thought back to when he mocked Ian for Yev not knowing who he was anymore. How he managed to charm the kid twice, and just as much if not more the second time, was beyond Mickey.</p><p>Fiona was practically beaming as she walked up to Sean. He hadn’t really bothered to get to know the older man, but he was happy Fiona had found someone she seemed to like. She had earned his respect in the past.</p><p>The priest called out, “Groomsmen and groom. Follow us. Line up on the right. Maid of honor and bride.”</p><p>Fiona couldn’t tear her eyes away from Sean, a feeling Mickey knew so well. He had spent years practicing otherwise, but since he was free to love Ian he wasted no time in preventing himself from admiring him.</p><p>Debbie appeared suddenly, walking out from behind the bridal party. “What about the flower girl?”</p><p>Mickey assumed she had been there for a minute now, but last he heard she wasn’t coming. He wasn’t sure where they were on their own beef, but maybe Svetlana’s words had helped some.</p><p>Mickey looked towards Carl’s girl who had the flowers and held out his hand. Veronica piped up, “Sorry, sweetie. Family first.”</p><p>She handed the basket reluctantly over as Mickey snatched it to pass it to Debbie. She reached out for it, locking eyes with Mickey and smiled.</p><p>“All those not in the wedding party, please find seats.”</p><p>Mickey leaned towards Ian, glancing around before pressing his lips softly against Ian’s. It only lasted a second, he still wasn’t that comfortable with PDA, but he wanted Ian to know that this time was different.</p><p>Fiona caught his attention as he started to walk away. “Hey, Mickey? Stay. It’s like you said. Me. You. Us, we're family.”</p><p>She grinned widely and free. He didn’t realize until this moment how much he had bonded with the rest of the Gallaghers. Even during their breakup, the look of pity and hurt on their face was about losing Mickey in their lives too. They had grown so used to him over the years that they all were thrown off by his absence, as well as by Ian’s loneliness.</p><p>He walked back next to Ian, who threw his arm around his boyfriend’s waist. This is what a wedding should feel like, a real bond between people. Everyone was happy. Nobody was witnessing the future they had wanted crumble before them as they were locked into a life they had been avoiding. Even the weather was cooperating, shining into the church to remind everyone of the mood.</p><p>“So who's giving the bride away?”</p><p>That is exactly when shit hit the fan. Lip and Ian had both raised their hands, when Frank’s voice suddenly appeared, sloshed, from the back of the room. Fiona’s smile dropped, as she saw Frank fucking Gallagher walk in, while slinging on his jacket. Mickey thought about how similar the scene was to Lip’s earlier, grimacing at the thought.</p><p>Fiona deadpanned, “Frank-“</p><p>“Where do you want me, Padre?”</p><p>Her voice was stern, well rehearsed from years of raising Frank’s kids. “No. Absolutely not.”</p><p>The scene completely fell apart after that. Lip and Ian tried to hail Frank out, as he struggled against them. He fought against the pair, causing Mickey to tense up in case he needed to put Frank in his fucking place. Frank worked his way out of their grasp, before complaining , “I have a duty! To walk my daughter down the aisle, and to give her away.”</p><p>Mickey cut him off, “You weren’t even sure about her being married or not before, Frank. Definitely weren’t at that wedding.”</p><p>He turned his eyes toward Mickey. The expression Frank had was a deadly one. Normally Mickey thought he was just a bumbling idiot, but he saw him actually ruin shit when he looked like that, “Mickey Milkovich. Ian back to buttering your biscuit for the time being? You know how he is.”</p><p>Mickey gaped at the man and Ian clenched up next to him. He didn’t know how a man that spent no time with his children still managed to know their insecurities and use it against them, but Frank always managed. Frank stumbled towards Fiona, who shot him a nasty look. “Jesus. Are you high?”</p><p>Frank stopped in front of her. “Wow,” His head bobbled a little. “Yes. I am actually, but that’s beside the point.”</p><p>Kev tried to direct Frank out, but Sean opened his mouth, “Nobody wants you here, Frank. Just go.”</p><p>The air had completely shifted by this point. Everyone paused including Frank, before he lashed into one of his typical rants while staring Fiona down. “I’m your father. I may not have always been a good one, but I’m still your father, and I’m going to walk you down that fucking aisle.”</p><p>The scene somehow only got worse from there. Sean opened his mouth to kick Frank out, before Frank’s voice became low and deadly. Mickey knew something bad was about to happen.</p><p>“Well, no one’s perfect Sean. Ain’t that right?”</p><p>Fiona cut in, “I don’t want you here.”</p><p>“Get the fuck out, Frank!”, Mickey barked, stepping towards him.</p><p>Lip walked forward, ready to back Mickey up. “Come the fuck on! Get out.”</p><p>“My loving family! So judgemental, all without faults. ‘He who is without sin, let him cast the first stone’,’ he turned to look at the priest, That’s basically the gist of it, isn’t it?”</p><p>“John 8:7.”</p><p>Fiona touched him on the shoulder, turning his attention to her. “Please. Please, Frank. This is my wedding day. Please don’t fuck it up.”</p><p>He sighed. “We had fun planning for the wedding, didn't we? I love you, Fiona. My little girl, I always accepted you for who you are, with all of your faults. Accepted all of you for who you are, even if you couldn’t find a place in your heart to accept me! For who I am. We’re human, we make mistakes, have faults. Lip’s drinking his breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”</p><p>That answered that question for Mickey. Lip wouldn’t look up, staring off into the distance.</p><p>He pointed to Ian next. “Well we covered Ian a bit earlier, but Ian’s a bipolar queer with his guard dog boyfriend he takes to the pound when he’s done with him.”</p><p>Ian wouldn’t look at Mickey either, shaking his head angrily.</p><p>Frank turned to Debbie next. “Deb's fifteen with a baby on her hip!” He shifted his gaze to Carl. “And Carl thinks he’s a brother. With a foxy fucking girlfriend. I’m not sure how you pulled that one off.”</p><p>Mickey was disgusted at that comment. She looked fifteen at most, standing in her short pink dress. Carl had his chin raised stubbornly.</p><p>Frank walked to stand back next to Fiona. “And Fiona, my beautiful Fiona. You’ve let so many men drive up that freeway between your legs you’re gonna have to put an exit sign on your vagina. Really teaching your sibling’s some life lessons, huh? And now, you’re marrying Sean.”</p><p>Frank whipped his head towards the man who he just named, “Sean! Oh, yeah I know you Seany boy. Takes a dope fiend to know a dope fiend, and you are world-class. I went by your business last night late when nobody was there, and I found some things. Maybe we should go back there, you and your bride to be, and show her that little box you hide under your invoices. The bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. You know, with the needles, and the spoon. The rubber tubing, and the little baggies with this brown powder,” Frank pulled out cocaine from his pocket, waving it in Sean’s face.</p><p>Mickey turned to look at Fiona, whose face had crumbled completely. She had a tear rolling down her face. It was the exact opposite face she had been proudly displaying earlier.</p><p>Frank continued his speech, purposefully digging each word further under Fiona and Sean’s skin. Sean ran off after his son and Fiona ran out of the room in tears. Lip turned Frank around, launching a punch at his face. Ian ran to grab him off, while Mickey jumped in to join the man. He was shocked neither had interrupted before then to land a punch straight to the drunk's dome. Kevin grabbed at Mickey, pulling him off but Mickey’s small frame had an advantage as he wiggled out of Kev’s grip, managing to land another punch.</p><p>~~</p><p>Sitting in the church pews, Mickey leaned down, resting his arms on his thighs with his head bowed. Svetlana had taken both Liam and Yevgeny with her, leaving the rest of them to pick up the pieces after Frank had destroyed the wedding. He was honestly trying to process what the fuck happened. Ian slid into the spot next to Mickey, whose arms automatically draped over him. He had gone outside to calm Fiona down.</p><p>Mickey spoke softly, “How is she?”</p><p>He chuckled, but it was void of emotion. “Yeah, uh, she’s not good. But she’ll be okay. She’s the strongest person I know.”</p><p>He leaned against Mickey, who looked at him. “Strong enough to raise you six fuckers.”</p><p>He felt Ian smile against him, before he shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out two rings, “Fiona gave these to me. Told us to keep them, you know in case we ever need them. Wanted them to be used towards true love or something.”</p><p>Mickey looked at him puzzled. “You proposing at your sister’s ruined wedding?”</p><p>“No. I mean, not yet. Let’s wait until you’re divorced, but maybe one day. Down the road, I’d be okay with being a family? I know we kind of got a family going already, but officially I mean.”</p><p>Mickey knocked their heads together. “Save the speech you fucking pussy. One day, Gallagher. I’ll let you propose to me one day.”</p><p>He leaned up, planting a kiss on Ian’s forehead. Ian smiled as he leaned into it.</p><p>Kev’s voice appeared from the side, causing both of them to break apart as they looked at him, “Hey, we kind of have Frank in the trunk of the car. Want to get revenge on him?”</p><p>Both of them looked at each other, before jumping up. Ian slung his arm around Mickey’s leg as Mickey tried to put Ian’s head in a headlock, rubbing his knuckles in his hair. They laughed amongst themselves, following Kev out.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>To be honest, Filorux convinced me to add smut, so you can thank them lmao.  Click <a>here</a> to see the full NSFW art.</p><p>Thank you so much for sticking through this whole fic with me! It was definitely a learning experience but I had a blast. I hope you at the very least think my slight addition to season 6 is an improvement compared to the Mickey less majority of the actual season (and I kept him out of jail, take that Shameless).</p><p>I'm on <a href="http://milkymickeyway.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a> if you want to chat!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading my first ever fanfiction! I’ve spent years and years reading but just never had the chance, time, or the courage to actually do this, so I thought I'd start big and sign up for a whole Big Bang after feeling so inspired by this show. Definitely forced a deadline, which was apparently exactly what I needed to step out of my comfort zone. I had a lot of fun and appreciated the comments and kudos I’ve gotten. Remember, comments are *always* appreciated by fic writers, no matter how long after publishing.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>